Life Imitating Art
by pfloogs72
Summary: Sookie Stackhouse is a successful single event planner in New York City whose life is about to get a little more complicated and a lot more interesting. AH. Rated M for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

My feet were screaming and my lower back was aching, but I was filled with a sense of relief. I was perched at the edge of the Allen Room – a new event space at Jazz at Lincoln Center - gazing down through the huge wall of glass on the city below. The lights of the busy midtown traffic streamed past and the adjacent buildings lit from within were a beautiful sight. The dark void punctuated by a few scattered lights to the left indicated the southern end of Central Park. It was one of the most spectacular views in the city.

I turned back to visually sweep the room. So far the evening had gone off without a hitch. Many of New York City's most influential powerbrokers were gathered tonight to celebrate 25 years of The Madden Company, a wildly successful and powerful leveraged buyout firm. A jazz trio provided just enough background music, but it was becoming more difficult to hear them over the rising din of clinking glasses, cutlery scraping on china and dinner conversation. I caught the eye of the bassist and gave him a nod to indicate they could breakdown for the night and headed back to the kitchen to find the catering captain.

"How are we doing, Don?"

"Marvelous, marvelous. Entrees are down and wine has been poured at all the tables. When would you like us to start clearing?"

"Let's give them another 10 minutes. In the meantime please make sure all wine is refreshed. I don't want to rush though this dinner since it's a celebratory evening, but I also don't want the guests sitting with empty plates in front of them."

"You got it."

I moved to the back of the room to find my boss, and friend, Claudine Crane. She was tall, elegant and extremely charming – people loved her and I loved working for her. I'd been with Crane Events for eleven years since moving to the city after college. Claudine offered me an event assistant position, and I'd worked my way up through the ranks to Vice President. Crane Events was one of the most sought after event companies in the city. We had an impressive stable of clients - primarily non-profit organizations with a few corporate clients sprinkled in for good measure.

She ran an appraising eye over the room and smiled. "It's another great event, Sookie. Victor should be very happy."

"Well, we're not done yet. We still have Victor's remarks and the surprise guest. You're sticking around for her, aren't you?"

"Of course – I wouldn't want to miss this."

"Okay, I'm going to check in with the production team and make sure Diana's ready."

I climbed the stairs of the terraced room to the production booth.

"Hey, Quinn. Entrees will be cleared in 5, and then dessert and coffee will go down and champagne will be poured. So we're looking to go in about 20. Cool?" The roughly handsome bald guy nodded in agreement.

"I'll bring Victor up to the podium. He'll make about 5 minutes of remarks and then introduce Diana. I'm going to check on her in the green room now and will get her into place while Victor's speaking."

"Sounds good, Sook. We're good to go." I smiled at him and he winked in return.

Quinn was a production manager with Sight & Sound, an A/V company specializing in events and meetings. I'd known him for years since we worked together frequently on projects. We'd dated a couple of years ago, but it had only lasted a few months. He was a great guy, and we still had a good working relationship.

Pushing through the door to the right of the production booth, I headed down the hallway to the green room. I peeked my head in and saw Amy, one of Crane's trusty event coordinators, amiably chatting with Diana Krall, one of my favorite contemporary jazz singers, and her manager, Tanya.

I gave her a smile and crossed the room to shake her hand. "Hi Tanya, hello Ms. Krall. I'm Sookie."

"Sookie! It's nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too. Thank you so much for being here. Mr. Madden is thrilled to have you with us this evening and I know this will make it a special birthday for his wife and an especially memorable evening for all the guests. I'm sorry I couldn't be here for sound check. Did everything go okay?"

"Everything was perfect. Amy's been a doll and made sure we had everything we needed."

"Terrific. We have about 15 minutes before you go on. I'll radio up to Amy in about 10 minutes so she can bring you just outside the entrance. I suspect Victor will want to pop by quickly to meet you before he goes on to make his remarks. He'll then introduce you."

I turned then to Tanya. "We'll have a car waiting downstairs. There's no rush of course, but it's ready whenever you'd like to leave. Amy has the driver's cell and can help you find it."

"Thanks, Sookie."

"I'm heading back to the Allen Room. I'm really looking forward to hearing you sing." I left the three to go find Victor.

As the evening's host, Victor's table was front and center, of course. I'd planned many an event for Victor over the years. He always joked that our relationship had lasted longer than any of his four marriages, which sadly enough was the truth. To his right was his current wife, Margot. She was impossibly thin, fashionably dressed and inappropriately aged. I'd worked with her on a few charity events that she'd co-chaired. She was definitely challenging, but I'd seen worse.

"Sookie!" Margot cooed and air kissed me three times. It didn't matter how many times we did this, the third kiss always threw me for a loop, but luckily i always seemed to be able to recover.

"Margot, you look stunning as always. Oh, and Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you, Sookie. You look beautiful too, but I'd love to see you wear something other than a little black dress sometime."

"Well, you know this is pretty much my uniform." I have about 15 black dresses in my closet – it was all I ever wore to events. People weren't there to look at me, so I just needed to look presentable and a bunch of black dresses were the most practical way to go.

"Sookie," a deep voice boomed in my ear and a warm hand came down on my shoulder.

"Hi Victor," I smiled. "Everything going okay from your end?"

"Perfect as usual. One of these days I'll convince you to join my team at The Madden Company full time." He said this at every event – but he knew I had no interest in leaving Crane.

"Everything is on schedule Victor. I'll come get you in about 10 minutes once desserts are done to bring you to the podium."

I winked at him conspiratorially and left to check in one last time on the catering operation. My feet were really pounding by now, and my whole body was starting to ache, but I knew I just had another half hour or so and then I'd be able to finally sit.

I poked my head in the kitchen. Don looked up and spoke before I had a chance.

"Dinner's been cleared. Desserts, champagne and coffee are ready to go"

"And the cake for Margot?"

"We've assigned one of our best servers, Marco, to bring it out to her when cued."

"Thanks, Don. You and your team are amazing."

"Right back at you, Sookie."

I spied an empty chair and was tempted to sit for just a minute to relieve my feet, but knew if I sat down I may never get back up. _Half an hour, just half an hour more_ I told myself. By sheer will I entered the Allen Room one more time and decided to walk around the room and look for any potential problems. The tables were covered in deep midnight blue silk linens with just a hint of sheen to give them a little life. Victor had very specific tastes – he never wanted anything too feminine, and definitely nothing too daring. The centerpieces were gleaming silver revere bowls filled with gorgeous hydrangeas in varying shades of blue surrounded by silver candlesticks with white tapers. Lafayette Reynolds had designed the décor and had really knocked it out of the park. It was classic, understated and very rich. Just like Victor.

I first met Victor when he was being honored by the City Education Fund. Crane Events had been hired by the Fund to manage the event, and we worked closely with Victor's office. Because of the sensitive nature of his business dealings and the high level of his contacts, it was imperative that the event was executed to perfection. The benefit was a huge success, and from then on Victor engaged Crane Events to handle all of The Madden Company's corporate events and the charity events that Victor and his wife at the time were co-chairing. It was a very lucrative relationship for Crane Events.

Establishing and fostering beneficial connections has become one of my favorite aspects of my job. We strive to help our charities build partnerships with corporations that have similarly aligned values and goals and vice versa. We're kind of like matchmakers.

Crane Events had in our own little way, helped The Madden Company expand their business in the telecommunications sector by pulling Victor in as a Co-Chair for an Boys and Girls Club Gala honoring the Chairman of AT&T. Victor made valuable relationships due to his dinner involvement that enabled his company to purchase a struggling AT&T subsidiary, which he eventually was able to sell for an obscene amount of money. He also made a generous personal donation and tapped his contacts to raise a ton of money to benefit the Boys & Girls Club in turn boosting his public image. Win-win all the way around. Crane Events worked to find these relationships for all our clients, both charities and corporations. Victor now sought my advice for determining much of his philanthropic giving and I loved helping him find deserving charities to support.

Don caught my arm, "Desserts are down and coffee and champagne are being poured. We'll be able to clear the floor of service staff in 5 minutes."

"Thanks, Don. I'll let Victor know." I radioed Amy to bring down Diana, and looked up to the production booth and flashed a five to Quinn. After maneuvering through the tables I was close enough to catch Victor's eye and gave him a quick smile to let him know it was time.

As we left the table I leaned in to quietly tell him that Diana was just behind the doors so she could meet him. He nodded and pushed through the doors. I left him to speak with her in private for a couple of minutes before opening the door to indicate it was show time. Victor strode to the microphone as the lights dimmed in the room and went up on the podium.

Victor entertained the crowd of his peers and business associates with a few anecdotal stories from the 25 years that The Madden Company had been in business. He then announced that it was also his wife's birthday and asked everybody to raise a glass to toast Margot.

"I've high jacked my lovely wife's birthday with this affair, so I thought it would only be fair to make the evening as enjoyable as possible for her. Since we're in this beautiful jazz hall it seemed fitting to have one of Margot's favorite singers with us this evening as a special birthday surprise. Ladies and Gentleman, the brilliant Diana Krall."

Diana stepped through the door to wild clapping from the guests and approached the gleaming grand piano. It was just a few feet in front of the glass wall with Midtown Manhattan and Central Park as the backdrop.

"Thank you everybody. Thank you Victor for having me here tonight – Margot, I'm so happy to help celebrate your birthday. Before we go any further though, we need to all sing for the birthday girl."

On cue, Marco the waiter approached Margot's table with a lit birthday cake and Diana sang Happy Birthday, aided by the 70 some odd guests in the room. Following the birthday song, Diana settled in for her set.

I headed to the back of the room to find Claudine. Her back was against the wall watching the performance and there was an empty ballroom chair next to her. I sank into the chair and let out a big sigh. She handed me a glass of champagne and clinked her glass against mine.

"Well done, Sookie."

"Thanks, Claudine."

I allowed myself to sit and enjoy Diana's smoky and sultry performance while I sipped my champagne. Moments like these were definite perks of the job. Not many people got to have these experiences and I knew it was a privilege. It was an intense and at times tough career, but I really loved it.

I knew the performance would be over soon, so I hauled myself to my feet so I could prepare for the exodus.

"I'm going to take off now. See you tomorrow." Whispered Claudine. And with a quick hug she was gone.

A few minutes later Diana finished her last song and Victor and Margot approached the piano to give her farewell hugs. Diana waved to the crowd and I was pleased to see Amy waiting close by to escort Diana back to the green room and to her car.

Victor said a few last remarks into the mike to thank everybody for coming and to have a safe journey home. Guests began filtering out and I tried to mentally will everybody to leave as soon as possible so I could drag my sorry self home and fall into bed.

The homestretch was always the longest part of the night. I pushed through the catering doors and was surprised to be swept into a giant bear hug. I pulled back to see who it was and laughed to see Lafayette grinning down at me. One look at me and the smile instantly left his face.

"Girl, you look like sh-" he started.

I quickly interrupted "Don't say it Lafayette. I know I must look awful right now. It's been a long day and I'm exhausted. Let's talk about something much prettier. The tables and flowers look amazing! Thank you for doing such an awesome job."

"As if I'd do anything else." He smirked. Lafayette has rapidly risen in the ranks of event designers. He'd started years ago as a grunt in a prominent event design studio schlepping buckets of flowers, and had branched out on his own a couple of years back. I used him whenever I could and his career was really taking off.

"Sophie-Anne Leclerc's office called today to ask me to send my portfolio." He said rather smugly cocking his head.

"Oh my god, that's fantastic, Lafayette! Do you know what she's considering you for?"

Sophie-Anne Leclerc was Editor-in-Chief of _Stila_, the foremost fashion magazine in the US. She was a formidable figure in the fashion world and wielded power and influence like a machine gun. She had a reputation for being an ice queen and was know to be tough as nails. I'd never worked with her, but certainly had read a lot about her. Every year she chaired the Costume Institute Benefit, also known as the 'Party of the Year' for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She was a trustee of the Met and used the event to draw A-list celebrities and the world's top designers to dress them. The event was legendary and had held the crown as New York City's most glamorous benefit for years. People, including celebrities and designers, always clamored to get their hands on a ticket.

"I don't know but I'm hoping it's for the Party of the Year. Rumor has it Sophie-Anne had a falling out with David Bardin and is looking for a new designer."

"Whoa! That would be huge for your career, Lafayette! But then you'll probably become too big to do events for me, eh?" I elbowed him a little.

"Never, girl. I'm like that bad rash you just can't make go away."

"Ewwww. That's disgusting." I wrinkled my nose and stuck out my tongue like I was gagging. "On that delightful note, I'm going to see if everybody's left so we can break down and I can get the hell out of here."

Everybody had left except for a handful of guests talking to Victor and Margot. As I approached Victor looked up. "There you are, Sookie. We're on our way out. I want to thank you again for making this such a wonderful evening."

"Have a safe trip home, goodnight." I smiled with the last strength I could muster and gave a quick wave as they walked to the elevators.

I made quick rounds to say thanks and goodnight to Don, Lafayette and Quinn before gathering my things and rushing downstairs to hail a cab. Mercifully I was less than a ten minute ride from home, and within half a hour of leaving was cocooned in my bed and dead to the world.

* * *

The next morning I was running a little slow and made it into work just by nine. I felt like I'd been hit by a Mack truck. The previous night's dinner was small in comparison to most events we do, but it didn't make it any less taxing on me physically.

I'd just settled into my office chair with my coffee when Claudine strode in dropping the New York Post down on my desk with a flourish.

"Last night's event was mentioned in Liz Smith's column." She grinned.

"That should make Victor happy." I scanned the column and took out my scissors to clip the column and found a spot to pin it on the crowded bulletin board crammed with other mentions of our events.

We loved to scan the gossip columns to keep up on the comings and goings of New York's elite since we worked with them on a daily basis. Not only was it valuable to know who was having affairs, losing their jobs, involved with shady business deals, and on the verge of divorce – it was also highly entertaining in a twisted way. Liz Smith was a great column, and reported on who was going to this party, or that. It wasn't as dishy as Cindy Adams or our beloved Page Six. Our favorite pastime was trying to figure out the blind items – especially tawdry gossip that witholds the identities of the players to protect the 'innocent'. And avoid lawsuits.

We also religiously scanned the social blogs to see the photos of the bold-faced names attending the various benefits around town. It was helpful to know who the players are and which benefits they attended. We tried to piece together their motivation for attending whatever benefit for which they were photographed, because it was rarely about the cause itself. Most likely they'd been strong armed by the chairs of the event into buying a ticket or bought a ticket to curry favor with somebody.

It wasn't my most productive day at work. I pushed forward minimally on a few projects and returned some calls, but I was so worn out I was having a hard time staying focused. At five I packed up my things and popped into Claudine's office to say goodbye.

"Any plans this weekend, Sookie?"

"The usual. Volunteering tonight for a couple of hours and then I have that portrait class tomorrow morning that I started last week, but nothing really other than that."

"Sookie, you're an attractive 32 year old living in New York City. I know I sound like a broken record, but I just don't understand why you never go out on dates. It's been like two years since you had a boyfriend, and that was _Quinn_." Claudine was no fan.

"I know, I know. You _know_ I've tried going on a couple of blind dates, but the guys were creeps. Frankly I'd rather sit at home by myself and read a book than subject myself to some of the weirdos out there." Claudine looked at me with a weak smile and sighed heavily at my remark.

"I think you snagged the last nice guy in the city."

Claudine's smile widened and she said, "Well, Jonathan was quite the catch, but there are other good guys in the city. I think you're just looking in the wrong places. Uh, scratch that. You're just not looking."

My head dropped back as I rolled my eyes. "Good night, Claudine. Have a good weekend."

I hopped on the subway as I did every Friday to begin my weekend. Most benefits and galas in the city were Monday through Thursday nights, leaving the only consistent time that I had to myself Friday evening and Saturday morning. Frequently I had to go into the office for the rest of the weekend because the workload was so crushing. Claudine was always very respectful of my volunteering commitment and Saturday morning class and never asked me to stay late on Fridays or come in early on Saturdays.

I rode the subway up to the 116th Street stop. Every Friday I spent a couple of hours at a group home for kids in the foster care system. I'd been coming here for the last five years, when I'd hit a major low point in my life. My parents died when I was eight years old. They were swept over a bridge in a flash flood. The loss of my Mom and Dad was enormous, but my Gran had taken my older brother Jason and me into her home and raised us until we left for college. She was everything to me, and when she died I had a really rough go of it. I'm not particularly close to my brother, and I felt like I'd suddenly been cut adrift. I missed my Gran terribly. Volunteering here didn't take away the pain of her loss which I still feel five years later, but I did feel like I was able to channel my energy into something that was positive for kids who were dealing with precarious family lives. It wasn't a structured volunteer position, I just went in and hung out with the kids for a couple of hours.

I always carried a few little wire bound sketch books with me so I could give them to kids who were interested. I'd started sketching when my parents died – it was very therapeutic for me and I still do it to this day. I knew five of the kids who were at the house today, and three were new. They ranged in age from five to eighteen.

'Hey Sookie! I wanted to show you some of my drawings from this week,' smiled a sweet twelve year old girl named Dawn. I'd know Dawn for a couple of months now and was really impressed to see how her drawings had progressed – becoming much more confident and expressive. She was nearing the end of her book, so I pulled out another one for her.

"Can my brother and I have one too?" the taller of the two new boys shyly asked me.

"Of course you can! What's your name?"

"I'm Hunter and this is my little brother Ian."

"Well, I'm Sookie. It's nice to meet you both. Here you go. You can do anything you want with this – doodle, sketch a picture, write poetry, or even play tic-tac-toe."

"Thank you." Hunter squeaked and gave me a little smile and retreated to a far corner of the room with Ian and they cracked open the sketch books and were soon consumed in their own little worlds.

I sat around and chatted with Dawn and a couple of the others and the time quickly passed. When it was time for me to leave I gave everybody quick hugs before crossing the room to Hunter and Ian.

"Thank you again for the sketch books, Sookie. Maybe we'll see you next week?"

"Maybe so. It was sure nice to meet you and your brother. Have a good weekend." I ruffled his hair, smiled brightly and turned to leave.

It was heartbreaking to see kids with family lives in such turmoil. They didn't know what to expect from one week to the next, so I never presumed or promised that I would see anyone the following week. I would most certainly be back the next week, but I never knew if they would.

When I got back to my apartment on the Upper West Side, I ordered in Thai from a great neighborhood joint and took a quick shower while waiting for it to come. I popped in _A Room With a View_ and settled in to watch as much as I could before I was consumed by sleep.

My eyes were drooping before too long, so I shut it down early. I had an 8:00 a.m. drawing class and wanted to be alert and focused for it.

* * *

The early night paid off. When my alarm went off at 7:00 a.m.. I was feeling good, and once I had my morning coffee I felt like a million bucks. I threw on jeans and a turtleneck sweater and pulled my hair into a messy bun. Gathering my drawing materials, I left my apartment to hop on the crosstown bus to take me across the park to the National Academy School of Fine Arts. I'd taken several drawing classes there and had just started a portraiture class last week. I was finding it challenging to say the least.

After two hours of sketching the model, the instructor, Bernard, circulated the room to give the class feedback. "Sookie, you have some nice lines here, but the overall result is rather wooden and detached. You have technical skills but you need to be an empathetic observer of your subject. You're not alone. Most of the class is struggling with this too." He turned to address the class. "This week, I'd like for you to draw a portrait of someone you know - your spouse, roommate, boyfriend, whatever. Drawing somebody you know will help immensely to cross the hurdle that so many of you seem to be facing. Thank you and I'll see you next week."

Well, I wasn't sure who I would draw that I knew, but I'd bring my sketch book with me to Muddy's and see I could find somebody who would inspire me to draw a better portrait. Muddy's was my home away from home and just around the corner from my apartment. It was an independently owned coffee shop that was large enough so you didn't feel like you were sitting on the lap of the person at the next table, but still cozy enough to make you want to stay for hours.

I loved to come here after my drawing class and have a latte and work on the New York Times crossword puzzle or draw in my sketchbook. It was my decompression time from the work week and I savored my lazy time there. The familiar jingle of the bell above the door and smell of fresh roasted coffee comforted me and made the city feel a little smaller. I caught the eye of the pixie-haired waitress, Amelia, and smiled, heading back to my usual table tucked in the back corner. It was a prime position to people watch because it was out of the way but still afforded great views of the rest of the tables. I didn't really want to chat with anybody here other than Amelia, and the corner table helped to ensure I would be able to spend a solitary morning in peace

"Good morning, Sookie. You want a skim latte?" Amelia smiled.

I nodded gratefully and pulled out my sketch book. A pretty young brunette was sitting a couple of tables away looking wistfully out the window. I thought she would be a good subject, so I started to quickly record her general gestures and posture with my pencil. I was starting to start roughing in the features on her face when Amelia came over with my latte and took the seat opposite mine.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not! How's your week been?"

Amelia's face brightened. "I have great news! I was cast in this play that will be directed by that same guy who directed me in the Fringe Festival. And I have an audition on Wednesday for a Doritos commercial."

"Nice! When is the show?"

"It's in February."

"Well, count me in. I'll round up a crowd to come."

She gave me a huge grin. I'd met Amelia when she started working here two years ago. In that time she'd become a great friend and I really enjoyed her company. I rarely met people outside of work, so it was a welcome break from talking shop all the time.

"Did you see who's here today?" I scanned the crowd until I saw the tall blond that I knew she was talking about.  
"Mr. Love 'em and Leave 'em himself!" she giggled

He earned his nickname when Amelia first started working here. On several occasions he'd bring a 'date' to Muddy's on a Saturday morning and they'd order coffee. After a half hour or so, like clockwork, the woman would push back from her chair and leave, having clearly been dumped. Their reactions ranged from irate to just plain pitiful. It had been highly entertaining while it lasted, but he'd been coming in solo for over a year now.

"I wonder if he's been single all this time or if he just hasn't found a reason to break up with his latest girlfriend yet." Amelia pondered.

"He's not single." I said. "I think he's with this Upper East Side socialite type name Felicia who works at the Met."

"How in the hell do you know that?" Amelia asked wide eyed.

"I've seen his picture in some of the social blogs out at various events. He's always photographed with her."

"You need to lay off the social news. You know way too much about people you don't event know. That's kind of creepy."

"It's my job, Amelia. It's helpful to know stuff like that. Although, yes, it is kind of creepy that I know this about the random gorgeous guy who dumps girls in Muddy's like it's his job."

"Well what's his name?"

"I don't know – they've never listed his name."

"Ooooooh. Mysterious. Well, I got to get back to work before I get fired. Maybe we can get drinks this week?"

"Sounds perfect. Call me when you know your schedule."

I turned back to my sketch book and realized that my subject had paid her bill and left while I was gabbing with Amelia. Fudge.

My gaze was drawn back to the blond guy and I wondered what his story was. He really was a handsome man with strong features and icy blue eyes. His golden blond hair stopped a couple of inches above his shoulders and was tousled from his fingers running through it. He had a pen out and was intently looking at the paper in front of him. The corners of my mouth edged up into a small smile when I realized he was working on the crossword. At that very moment he looked up and caught me right in the eye. Gah. I quickly looked away but knew my cheeks were hot pink.

Who _was_ this guy? He didn't seem like the kind who usually went out with a 'Felicia'. Not that I knew her, but I'm pretty sure I know her type - your standard issue pretentious and entitled trustafarian. He didn't strike me as a lawyer, attorney or an investment banker. Maybe he was a musician? No. A 'Felicia' would never go out with a musician. Maybe he was a writer. Or a night club owner. Maybe a restaurateur? He looked Scandinavian. Maybe he was born and raised in Sweden. His mother was a fashion model and his father a famous novelist. He developed a love for food and wine and wanted to share it with the world so he came to America to establish an empire, first stop New York. Or he could be a spy.

I scoffed at my own ridiculousness and shook my head to clear my brain. Who knows what his story is, but I was surprised and disappointed that he would be attached to a 'Felicia.' I assumed he was intelligent by the mere fact he was working on a crossword rather than reading _Men's Health_. And he had kind eyes - although I _had_ witnessed him break at least five hearts. He seemed like a man of substance and the whole long hair thing seemed to indicate an independent streak. AND, he must live on the Upper West Side since he frequented my favorite coffee shop. Got to give him points for not living on the Upper East Side where Felicia undoubtably resided.

I'd been so caught up in my thoughts, that I wasn't cognizant of the fact that I'd been studying his face and begun sketching his portrait. Fortunately he was engrossed in his crossword so he didn't catch me looking this time. I fleshed out his nose and strong brow, high cheekbones and started becoming a little heated when drawing lips that looked like they'd been lifted from one of Michaelangelo's masterpieces. This man was really a sight to behold and my heart started racing a little bit. I worked on recording his sexy tousled hair. I added in a little shading to emphasize the planes of his face and was very pleased with the result. I forced myself to stop before he caught me looking at him again and flipped to an empty page in my sketch book so the neighboring tables couldnt see what I'd done. I'd seen this man several times in here before, and of course registered that he was attractive, but had never noticed what an Adonis he was until today. I needed to get out of here before I embarrassed myself again.

I'd finished my latte, packed up my things and beat a hasty retreat. I gave Amelia a quick wave and walked home enjoying an unseasonably warm and sunny November day.


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday's sun and mild temperatures extended to Sunday - perfect weather for my morning jog. My apartment was on 89th Street between Central Park West and Columbus – a 4th floor walk-up in an old brownstone. As much as I would love to live in a building with an elevator, I knew that the four flights of stairs were a blessing in disguise for my butt. My work schedule didn't leave me more than a couple of times a week to get out for a run or hit the gym, so the trips up and down stairs kept me toned. The Central Park Reservoir was my jogging track of choice. I would usually run the mile and a half path three times. The expansiveness of the sky over the water and the distant skyline were a welcome respite in the middle of a city that can frequently feel claustrophobic. I got some of my best thinking done while jogging this path.

Today I thought about my two upcoming trips. I loved to travel and had seen quite a bit of the world. Since my Gran died, I'd taken to vacationing over the Christmas holiday rather than crashing somebody else's family celebration. This Christmas I was headed to Brazil for a week and was looking forward to some sunny days on the beach.

Last week I'd booked a plane ticket for Greece the end of April. I'd been to Greece before but had spent my time in Athens with just a quick two-day sidetrip to Santorini. I'd been enchanted by the island and was returning to Greece to explore new islands.

On the way home I swung by the dry cleaners to pick up my suits. I was definitely a pantsuit gal. I gave Hillary Clinton a run for her money although mine were more tailored and not so colorful. My suits were strictly in the black, navy and grey range. Exciting? No. Practical and professional? Yes.

I lazed around the house until late afternoon enjoying a weekend out of the office. Around four I headed to my favorite market to pick up groceries for the week. Dinner tonight was fresh homemade pasta with a butternut sage sauce and a nice red wine. It was pretty fantastic if I do say so myself. While cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the dishes, my mind wandered back to the blond guy at the coffee shop. After getting ready for bed and climbing under the covers I pulled out my sketch book and flipped to yesterday's portrait. I traced the contours of his face with my fingertip and remembered with a shiver the intense color of his eyes.

"Aaaahhh, Sookie. Quit it!" I growled to myself snapping the sketch book shut and tossing it across the room. I turned out the lights and thought how pointless it was to moon over a guy I didn't know who was in some sort of relationship with 'Felicia.'

I tossed and turned until at last I fell into a dreamless sleep.

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A note from Claudine was propped up on my computer when I arrived in the office Monday morning.

_ **I ****have a meeting uptown this morning.**_

_**Meet me at JoJo's for lunch at noon.**_

_**xx, Claudine**_

Huh. That's curious. I love eating lunch at the chic townhouse on the Upper East Side, but when we've gone it's always been for some celebratory reason. Could Claudine be pregnant? No, she was just drinking at Victor's party a few days ago.

I became distracted with work and dropped the thought. At 11:45 I headed out the door to hail a cab and pulled up to JoJo's at noon on the dot. The hostess lead me to a table on the second floor next to a window. Claudine was already seated and a bottle of champagne was at the table. I gave Claudine a quizzical smile as I slid into my seat.

"What's with the champagne? Is there something to celebrate?"

"I hope there will be." She answered. Hmmm.

"I think I'm missing something here. What's up?"

"Did you know Diantha Jennings is retiring from the Met?" Diantha had been the Director of Special Events since time immemorial. She created the job in the 60's and had held it for forty years.

"Of course I know she's leaving the Met. I read the papers."

"Do you know who they want to replace her?"

Oh shit. Claudine was going to leave me and move to the Met to take the job. But wait. That didn't make any sense. What about her company? Why would she do that?

"You?" I questioned confusedly.

"No, silly. You!"

I was shocked. "Excuse me, what?" I blurted out a little shrilly and definitely ungraciously.

"The Met wants you to be their new Director of Special Events!" She beamed as proud as a mother watching her baby take her first steps.

My mouth gaped open. I couldn't formulate a sentence. I still wasn't fully comprehending what she was telling me.

"They've been interviewing candidates for months. This is a high profile position at the museum and a critical role for them, so they won't settle until they've got the right person. They decided to put together a profile of their dream candidate and then find that person. And it's you!"

"But I work for _you_, Claudine. I love Crane Events. I love my clients. I'm good at what I do and I'm comfortable there." I protested.

"You're too comfortable there, Sookie. And you're too young to be comfortable. This would be a great step for you professionally and personally. They actually approached me for permission to pursue you a couple of weeks ago. I've given it a lot of thought and I think it would be a great move for both of us. I met with Diantha and Catherine Coulson, the President, this morning to discuss details."

"It would be a good move for _you_? Are you trying to get rid of me? You could just fire me you know." My words came out more harshly than I'd intended, but I was hurt and confused.

"Sookie. I love you like a sister and would _never_ try to get rid of you. I genuinely think this is an incredible opportunity for you to take the event reins at the finest cultural institution in New York City…one of the most distinguished in the world. Think about it. The Met's trustees are Rockefellers, Astors, de la Rentas – the cream of the crop. Heads of State, and the true power elite are entertained there on a regular basis. The Costume Institute Benefit is the pinnacle of events in the city. And think about working day in and day out among masterpieces of art." Claudine knew from my silence that I was listening to what she said.

"It's hard sometimes, when considering a change in your life, to realize it doesn't have to be a f_orever_ move. No decision is permanent, Sookie. And you could always come back to Crane Events."

"I could?"

"You'll always have a place at Crane if you want it. Go to the museum and try it for two years. That will give you time to go through two event cycles and get fully settled. If after two years you want to come back, I'll make you a partner at Crane."

Whoa. That got my attention.

"Why do I feel like you're pimping me out?" I narrowed my eyes at Claudine.

"Oh, Sookie. I'm not 'pimping you out' as you so colorfully put it. Think of it as an arranged marriage." She practically sang the last words.

"So what do you get in exchange? Three goats and a pig?"

Claudine laughed heartily and shook her head. "No, Sookie. To have a Crane girl at the helm of the Met would make my company even more sought after. It's almost as much an honor for me as it is for you. If you do decide to come back, clients would line up to have you running their events."

"The honor of association? That doesn't seem all that great." I said skeptically.

"If you accept, the Met will list Crane Events as their _sole_ recommended event planner for incoming corporate clients at the Met." Claudine leveled her gaze at me.

I blew out a swift breath. That would translate to hundreds of thousands of dollars yearly for Crane.

"So it really just comes down to money, huh?"

"No it doesn't, Sookie, and you know that. What this really just comes down to is what's best for _you_. But I'm a businesswoman. Why not make the arrangement as advantageous as I can?."

"What about my salary? And my vacations? I've already bought my tickets to Brazil and Greece."

"Done and done. I negotiated a much better salary for you than you ever would have dreamed of asking for. You know you sell yourself short all the time."

"How much, Claudine?" I asked flatly.

"$140,000."

I choked on my sip of champagne, and it burned as it threatened to shoot out my nose.

"What?! Claudine! That's nearly double what I'm making now at Crane."

"I know. Like I said, you tend to sell yourself short. I've always felt mildly guilty about how little I pay you, but you've never asked for more than I gave you. If you'd handled negotiations with the Met you probably would have been satisfied with $85,000."

She was 100% right. I don't know if I would have even pushed for that much. "What about my vacations?"

"Your Christmas trip is no problem at all. And luckily the Party of the Year is April 20th, so you'll be free and clear to leave for Greece on the 22nd. Otherwise you _would_ have changed your ticket." She eyed me sternly.

"Don't I need to interview or something?"

"They'd like to set up a couple of meetings with you and the key players at the museum, but it's just a formality. You've planned several corporate events at the Met so Diantha can personally vouch for you. Plus they've done their homework on you and your references have checked out so to speak. Your reputation is sterling." She smiled at me and winked.

"When would they want me to start?"

"The Monday after Thanksgiving."

"So soon? That's less than two weeks!"

"They need to start planning the Party of the Year and want the new Director in place first."

"When do I need to let them know?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"I want to think about it some more."

"Sure, sweetie. Why don't you head out now and take the rest of the day to think. This is a big decision and I want you to feel good about it."

My head nodded in agreement as I looked down at my feet. Claudine reached out her hand and lifted my chin so I looked her in the eyes. "Sookie…..you're not going to lose me in your life if you decide to do this. We'll still be like family." She hugged me tightly.

My eyes welled with tears and I nodded my head.

Claudine paid the bill and caught a cab back to the office. I started walking west until I hit the park and then headed north until the Museum came into view. I was awed by the sight and got nervous butterflies in my stomach looking at the impressive façade. I knew I would take the job. I knew it back at the restaurant, but I was afraid to say it out loud and wanted to walk home across the park to let the enormity of the change sink in.

I didn't know if I was ready to assume Diantha's mantle. But Claudine and everybody else seemed to think I was capable. I sure hoped they were right.

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My first order of business Tuesday morning was to let Claudine know I'd made my decision. We hugged and both shed some tears, and Claudine called the Met to let them know I'd accepted.

About half an hour after Claudine hung up the phone, I received a call from Catherine Coulson. "Sookie. We were so happy to hear the good news from Claudine that you'll be joining our team."

"I'm very grateful for this opportunity and am looking forward to coming on board."

"I'd like to set up a time tomorrow for you to come to the museum and meet with me and Diantha to discuss the position and have you fill out some paperwork with HR. Would 10 a.m. work into your schedule?"

"Yes, that works perfectly."

"Sophie-Anne would also like to meet with you this week since the success of the Party of the Year is largely riding on the strength of your relationship. She'd like to see you at 2:00 in her office on Thursday."

I noticed it wasn't so much a question but a statement. "I'll make myself available to meet with her." The thought of meeting with Sophie-Anne instantly made my palms sweat.

"I'm sure you're busy so I'll let you go. Please come to the fifth floor administrative offices when you arrive tomorrow and the receptionist will show you to my office."

I'd launched myself out of my chair before my receiver was back in the cradle.

"Claudine, help! I'm meeting with Sophie-Anne on Thursday in her office. Finding something appropriate to wear is going to be more stressful than deciding to take the job was. What am I going to wear?"

"You're not going to wear anything currently in your closet, I'll tell you that much. Grab your coat – let's go."

In our uptown cab we talked about what might work. "We'll find something that enhances your personal style, Sookie. Nothing that would make you feel uncomfortable."

"What personal style?" I grumbled under my breath.

Claudine escorted me through the doors of Bergdorf's and straight into the waiting arms of her personal shopper, Trudi.

"We've got a bit of an emergency here, Trudi. Sookie here has a very important meeting on Thursday and is needing something fabulous to wear."

"I'm sure we can find something." smiled Trudi. "What kind of a meeting?"

"A meeting with Sophie-Anne Leclerc." Claudine practically gushed.

"Oh?!" Her eyebrows shot up and she looked faintly impressed. "This will be fun. We'll find the perfect look for you Sookie, don't you worry." She rushed to the back to confer with one of her associates. They looked me up and down before disappearing.

In no time they'd found the perfect outfit. The chic sheath dress in grey wool suiting material crossed in the front almost like a wrap dress. The neckline wasn't too deep. It had capped sleeves and a sexy pencil skirt. A hint of scalloped lace peeking underneath the skirt was a perfect counterpoint to the fabric of the dress. A black belt finished it off and trimmed in my waist. It was tailored but still feminine and very stylish. I felt incredibly relieved.

"Finish this off with some great black heels and pearl earrings and you'll be set."

A stop at Saks yielded a few more items before our return to the office. I felt guilty shirking work like this, but I was desperate and my boss was the one leading the charge.

I had a lot to do over the next few days to prepare for my departure. My first order of business was to contact my clients and let them know that I would be leaving Crane, and which of our event coordinators would be stepping in for me on each project.

The call to Victor was probably the hardest. He sounded disappointed. "So what does the Met have that The Madden Company doesn't?"

I didn't know what to say so just deflected. "I'm going to miss working with you and The Madden Company, but you'll be in good hands between Claudine and Amy. I hope we will continue to have opportunities to work together."

"I'm sure, Sookie. Please keep in touch and let me know how you're doing, okay?"

"Of course. Say hi to Margot and I'll talk to you soon." And I clicked off.

By the end of the day I was beat and wearily headed home.

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Diantha met me at the reception desk and shook my hand with a firm grip. She was in her early 60's with shiny jet black hair cut in a rather severe bob and angular glasses with midnight blue frames. Her clothing was always black or shades of gray – and I'm pretty sure I'd never seen her wear anything but Eileen Fisher paired with bold jewelry.

"Sookie, I can't tell you how happy and relieved I am to have you here. Come and I'll introduce you to Catherine."

Catherine was the first woman President of the museum. She was intense, intelligent, and more than a little intimidating. I held my own throughout the meeting, and felt that we would have a good working relationship.

"I'll be frank with you, Sookie. Attendance at the museum is down, our endowment has shrunk with the tanking economy, and public funding has been severely cut which is forcing us to pinch every penny. We have to continue entertaining – it's crucial to our fundraising programs and central to our mission as an institution, but we're looking for smarter ways to deliver quality events for less money. I'll be relying on you heavily to think outside the box and put a fresh spin on our events. As other institutions in the city seem to be getting chicer and sexier, I'm afraid the perception is that we're becoming more dowdy and matronly. We need your help."

Wow – no pressure or anything. "I'm looking forward to the challenge. Thank you both, for entrusting me with this position."

Diantha leaned in to speak. "I'll be setting up meetings for you to meet with the key players from each curatorial departments. It will be helpful for you to get acquainted as soon as possible and familiarize yourself with their gallery spaces and their upcoming exhibition schedule since your staff plans all the openings."

My head was swimming at the thought of the sheer volume of information I would soon be needing to consume and process.

Diantha led me back out to reception and on the way stopped to introduce me to a stunning blond woman who I immediately recognized as Felicia. She was probably 5' 10" and looked almost unreal with her perfectly symmetrical featuresl. I disliked her instantly, but I suspect that's because I'd developed an unhealthy obsession with her very gorgeous boyfriend. They'd have beautiful babies, dammit.

"Felicia, this is Sookie Stackhouse who will be taking over as Director of Special Events. Sookie's been Vice President at Crane Events for several years. We are very fortunate to have her joining the team."

Felicia swept her eyes over my outfit and gave me a tight, insincere smile as she shook my hand. "Lucky us. I've got to run to a meeting. Nice meeting you."

Now I was pretty sure my dislike for her had very little to do with her boyfriend.

The receptionist directed me down to HR to fill out my paperwork. I quickly completed the forms and was waiting in a small room to see a manager about health plan options when a handsome dark haired man crossed the room and sat next to me.

"Is this your first day on the job too?" he drawled with a sexy southern accent. I was rocked by the sound of home.

"No - I start December 1st, but am just filling out the paperwork now. Your accent is so familiar, may I ask where you're from?"

"Northern Louisiana, and from the sound of your accent I'd be willing to bet you're from there too." He winked at me and I could feel the heat spreading in my cheeks.

"Bon Temps." I grinned.

"I grew up not too far from there – what a small world. I'm Bill Compton, newly minted art conservator – nice to meet you."

"I'm Sookie Stackhouse, soon to be Director of Special Events."

"That's a tough job. I just moved here from California to take this job, but my partner is still in LA. He manages special events for one of the movie studios."

Figures. I guess it's true that all the good ones are either gay or married – or dating 'Felicia.'

"I'll bet that's really fun – my experience with media events has been pretty limited. I've primarily worked with non-profits and a few corporations."

"Ah. I hear that non-profit events are the most stressful." A woman beckoned him to an office down the hall. As he rose he winked again. "I do hope I'll be seeing you around Miss Stackhouse."

I hoped so too – it would be nice to have at least one friend here.

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"Hello, Sophie-Anne, I'm Sookie Stackhouse."

"Sookie Stackhouse, I've heard so much about you." Purred Sophie-Anne from behind her desk.

At least I assumed it was a desk since she was sitting at it and there was a phone on it. But there wasn't a scrap of paper on it or a computer. I'd always thought that paper-free desks were just an urban myth.

Her office was flawlessly decorated – it was contemporary without being sterile or cold. Beautiful large format photographs adorned the walls.

Rather than risk an insipid response, I decided to just smile and let her continue.

"Jean-Luc tells me you're quite knowledgeable of food and wine and have great event instincts in general."

Jean-Luc was the executive chef at Feast and Fetes. In my opinion they were the best caterer in New York City.

Again, I let her continue since she had yet to ask me a question.

"Where did you learn about food and wine?"

"I grew up in a small southern town that didn't even have a Chinese restaurant. I knew next to nothing about food when I moved to the city. I've just learned from going out to eat a lot - to as many different restaurant as I can, being an adventurous eater when I travel, and asking my chef friends lots of questions. I've learned about wine by working with chefs like Jean-Luc to pair wines for dinners over the years. I've taken a few wine courses and on occasion visit wineries when I travel."

"Where do you like to travel?"

"Anywhere I haven't been before."

"Where did you go last?"

"Hong Kong"

"Where are you going next?"

"Brazil"

She was silent for a moment and looked at me contemplatively. This was really weird.

"What do you think of goat cheese?"

"Personally I like it but I think it's been overdone at events."

"Chicken sate?"

"It's difficult to eat gracefully and nobody knows what to do with the stick afterwards."

"Lamb lollipops?"

"I dislike them for the name alone, and again, there's that stick."

"What kind of wine would you pair with squab."

"Cabernet Sauvignon, but I wouldn't recommend serving squab for an event. More than half the guests would ask for the fish option since squab has such a strong flavor. And in general people aren't crazy about eating pigeon."

"What do you think of giftbags?"

"I wish I could ban them from events. I think they're usually tacky and tend to bring out the rudest behavior in guests. But everybody else seems to love them so I think they're here to stay."

"And what do you think of pigs in a blanket?"

"I love them." Oh shit. Was that a trick question?

"Who's your favorite fashion designer?"

"That's not really my area, I'd rather stick to what I know if that's alright by you."

She cocked her head and looked at me for what seemed an eternity and then broke out into a sly smile.

"I like you Sookie Stackhouse. We're going to get along just fine."

"Thank you, Sophie-Anne."

I got the feeling I was being dismissed, so I bent down to pick up my handbag.

"One last thing, Sookie. How would you sum up the decor styles of Lafayette Reynolds and Johan Hennin?"

"Well, Johan's work is exquisitely delicate. His arrangements are sculptural and feel very precious to me. Lafayette's work is loose , lush and bold. His approach is fresh and unexpected and never feels contrived."

"If you were me, who would you hire to design the Party of the Year?"

"Lafayette Reynolds." I said with a smile.

"Thank you for your time today, Sookie. I'll see you at our first planning meeting December 10th."

"Thank you, Sophie-Anne. Have a nice Thanksiving holiday."

I left her office shaking my head. That was the most bizarre meeting of my life.

**A/N _Thanks to those of you who have left reviews and have added this story to your alerts! :)_**


	3. Chapter 3

Friday flew by. My objective of the day was to call my vendors to let them know I was leaving Crane. The majority of them worked events at the Met on a regular basis, so we'd still be in constant contact. I waited until the end of the day to call Lafayette as a reward to myself for making it through my long list.

"Sookie!" Lafayette sounded breathless on the phone.

"Whoa, what is it, Lafayette?" I laughed.

"Guess who's just been hired to design the Party of the Year?"

I couldn't help but let out a very loud 'Woo hoo!" and I jumped and clapped like a 10 year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert.

"That's right, baby….I have arrived! Sophie-Anne called me herself about 30 minutes ago."

"Lafayette, I'm really proud of you. We have to go out and celebrate."

"Well, don't worry Sook. I know I'll be huge after this, but I'll still make time for your events. I won't forget the little people." He joked.

I couldn't help but giggle. He was too much. "Lafayette, I've got some news too."

"Oh yeah? You got your stereo wires all straighted out?" I ignored him.

"I'm leaving Crane Events."

There was complete silence on the phone.

"Hello?" I thought the line had disconnected.

"I'm still here. Sook – is everything okay?"

"I'm really good - and even better with your news. I'm going to be the new Director of Special Events at the Met!"

I winced at the sound of a dropped phone. After a couple of seconds of rustling Lafayette was back.

"Holy _shit_, Sookie! You get down with your bad self!

I giggled again.

"We're definitely going out for drinks now. I'm first in line to start kissing your ass."

"_You_ kiss _my_ ass? That'll be the day."

"Drinks. Tomorrow night. On me. I'll text you tomorrow to work out details."

"Okay. See you tomorrow." I hung up smiling and rushed to pack my things so I could make it to my volunteer job on time.

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"Okay, people. Please initial the portrait you completed at home this week and pin it on the board."

I took in a deep breath and flipped open my sketchbook to 'the portrait', scrawled an 'SS' at the bottom, and ripped it out. I had always felt comfortable with open critique sessions, but this morning I was uncharacteristically uneasy. Maybe it was because I hadn't explicitly followed Bernard's directions to draw somebody I knew. Or maybe it was that I'd been carrying a strange sense of guilt over the portrait. I felt like I'd stolen something and that sense had grown stronger as the week had progressed.

I was pleased to see my portrait was one of the strongest in the class. It was a very striking likeness.

"Ms. Stackhouse – I am delighted to see the great strides you have made with this portrait. It seems that subject selection was the biggest hurdle for you. Your attachment to the subject enabled you to move beyond technical skills and into the emotional realm that makes somebody a true artist.'

What a bunch of hooey. I normally might have said something in response, but didn't want to admit that I'd cheated on my homework so I just mumbled "Um, thanks."

I decided to skip Muddy's after class, opting for a cup of coffee and the crossword at home. I'd call Amelia later.

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My last three days of work were filled with interoffice meetings in a mad rush to download information to Claudine and the event coordinators. The coordinators were very competent and I was confident that they'd make the transition smooth for our clients. My departure was a terrific opportunity for them to prove themselves to Claudine.

Claudine took the entire office out for my farewell lunch on Wednesday. I'd anticipated being a mess of emotions, but was oddly fine. Knowing that I could come back made leaving a lot easier. Plus, I was spending Thanksgiving with Claudine and Jonathan at their place in the Adirondacks so I didn't have to say goodbye to her in the office.

"Jonathan's downstairs with the car. You ready to go?" hollered Claudine from her office.

"Yep. I'll grab my bag and meet you at the elevator." I'd taken all my personal items home yesterday, so the office was empty except for a few decorative items that Claudine had purchased over the years. I took a last look around my office and with just the slightest lump in my throat, flipped out the light.

Jonathan was leaning against their Volvo waiting for us, and gave me a huge hug when we emerged from the building.

"Congratulations on the Met, Sookie. Claudine's going to miss you like hell, of course, but we couldn't be more proud of you."

I felt tears threatening the corners of my eyes, so I just hugged him back tightly and smiled before getting in the back seat.

The traffic out of the city was killer and I fell asleep before we even hit the Palisades Parkway. My body was stiff and my neck painfully kinked when we stopped for dinner along the way. I took a shift driving, and we finally arrived at Upper Saranac Lake a little before midnight.

The air was crisp and cold. We were far enough upstate that there was already a layer of snow on the ground. The sky was so inky black that you could clearly see the stars that blazed in the sky reflected in the still waters of the lake behind the cabin. Claudine's family built the large cabin nearly 100 years ago. It was constructed in the classic Adirondack style and was reminiscent of a very rustic swiss chalet built from rough-hewn logs, exposed wood beams and local fieldstone. A covered porch with natural wood railings ran the length of the cabin. A massive stone fireplace was the focal point of the great room.

Jonathan and Claudine had modernized the cabin a bit over the years, adding in a beautiful chef's kitchen and luxurious bathrooms. A round copper firepit was sunk into the large stone patio. Stone steps led further down to the boathouse which stored kayaks, canoes and a paddleboat. It was comfortable, charming and rustically romantic.

Another couple drove up from the city on Thanksgiving morning. It was a relaxing weekend. We cooked, played board games, drank copious amounts of wine, went snowshoeing and even ventured out on the lake in canoes a couple of times. I had plenty of time to myself too.

I was curled up on the sofa in front of the fire Sunday morning while everybody else was packing up for the return to the city. Claudine came in and sank down in the chair across from me.

"You look happy."

"I am happy, Claudine. Thanks for having me up here for Thanksgiving. I feel very peaceful right now. Probably just the calm before the storm, huh?"

She laughed. "You know you can always come here whether we're here or not – whenever you need a getaway."

"Thanks, Claudine. For everything."

"Let's get on the road. We've gotta get you back to the city early so you're all ready for your first day on the new job."

My stomach flip-flopped a little bit, but I hauled myself off the sofa to help load up the car.

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I took one last look in the mirror. My hair was pulled back into my usual low bun and my tortoise shell glasses were perched on my nose. I was wearing a well-tailored charcoal grey suit, a fitted light blue button down shirt to bring out my eyes and black heels. Gran's pearl earrings and necklace completed the look.

I wouldn't win any fashion awards, but I wouldn't be targeted by _What Not To Wear_ either. I looked put together and professional.

I fussed around the apartment a bit straightening things that weren't messy, trying to calm my nerves. Eventually I came to grips with the fact that I was as ready as I was going to be, so I put on my coat and walked to the crosstown bus. All too soon I was before the heavy gleaming brass doors of the museum, so I took a deep breath and approached one of the two security guards checking ID cards of the arriving staff.

"Hi, I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I'm supposed to pick up my ID card – this is my first day."

One of the guards pointed me in the direction of a table just inside the front doors. A white haired man in his early seventies was seated reading the paper.

"I'm sorry to bother you," I began. "I was told to pick up my ID card at this table?"

The man glanced up at me, dropped his paper and gave me a mischevious grin. "Hello, Sookie Stackhouse. Welcome to the Met." He flipped through a box and handed me an envelope with my ID card in it.

"How did you know my name?" I asked confused.

"I'm Sam Merlotte, one of the Security Managers here. I'm a retired NYPD detective."

I knew I still looked confused.

"Of the four people starting today you're the only woman." He said as he tapped his temple. "Plus, it's a photo ID." He gave me a quick wink.

"Oh. Of course." I gave a embarrassed laugh and blushed. I'd had my photo taken in HR when I filled out my forms. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Merlotte."

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Stackhouse. I hope they treat you nice here."

"I'm sure they will, thanks."

I was about to continue on my way when Sam spoke again. "Ms. Stackhouse, you're not wearing a ring on your left hand so I assume you're not married. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Uh, no." I was taken a bit aback by his question.

He shook his head. "Hmmmm. I surely don't understand young men these days."

"Well, I'd better get up and report for duty."

"Of course, of course. Have a lovely day, Ms. Stackhouse."

I waved and crossed the marble floors to the elevator bank.

Diantha was in the office when I arrived. She was staying on for the next couple of weeks to help me learn the ropes.

The Special Events Department was on the fourth floor of the administrative wing. She pushed a door open on a room about 15 feet wide and 25 feet long with work spaces for the event staff. A door along one wall opened onto my private office. It was just slightly smaller than the rest of the department space. A wall of built-in bookcases and a large blonde wood desk anchored one end of the office and a round conference table filled the other end. On the wall behind the desk hung a beautiful framed print of a Hudson Valley landscape. Upon closer inspection I realized it wasn't a print, but an original oil painting.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked Diantha when she noticed I was admiring the painting. "It's a Thomas Cole. The American Painting department loaned it to our department a couple of years ago so it could be enjoyed rather than stored it in the basement."

Wow. This was a whole new world.

"The girls should be here any time so we'll go over some basics before the joint staff meeting with the Development and Membership departments upstairs at 10:30."

Before I could answer, there was a soft knock at the door and a young girl who looked fresh out of college timidly peered around the corner.

"Come in, Lucy." Diantha beckoned with her left hand. "This is Sookie Stackhouse. Lucy is the administrative assistant for the department."

"It's nice to meet you Lucy. I'm sure you're kept pretty busy here." I smiled.

She seemed to relax a bit and smiled. "It's nice to meet you too, Sookie."

I looked up when I heard another knock.

"Ah, here's the rest of the events staff," Diantha said. "Of course you've already met Holly and Halleigh. Holly has been with us for five years and Halleigh for three."

I'd met both when I'd managed dinners here for clients, but our interactions had been fairly minimal.

"Yes, of course I remember you both. I'm happy to be here and am really looking forward to working with all three of you."

We exchanged handshakes and greetings and settled down around the conference table. I could tell that Holly and Halleigh were close friends. They seemed bright and well organized, but they weren't especially warm toward me. I suppose that was to be expected. They'd worked for years under Diantha who was probably 35 years their senior, and now were reporting to somebody much closer in age. I'd just have to earn their respect with time, because I was pretty sure I didn't have it now.

We spent the next hour discussing how the workload was currently managed within the department and reviewing the schedule for the upcoming year. The department was responsible for planning over 400 events a year, including luncheons, lectures, openings, dinners and benefits. It seemed like a crushing load of work, but I was eager to jump into it.

An hour later, Diantha, Holly, Halleigh and I headed up for the joint meeting. Diantha had given me an organization chart so I familiarize myself everybody and their positions as the key players gave their status reports. Nearly 20 people had gathered around the large expanse of a conference table with another 10 or so people in chairs along the back wall.

Felicia was seated directly across from me, but never looked at me or acknowledged my presence. I glanced down at the organizational chart and saw that she was Senior Development Officer for Governmental Affairs.

When Felicia's spoke, she reported that she'd been meeting with a specially formed committee of City Council members about the funding of educational programs in the city's cultural institutions. She was poised and well spoken. She may be rude, but she was clearly no intellectual lightweight. She must be well connected and very skilled at her job.

Diantha introduced me when it was her turn to report. She would be taking me around to meet people individually over the next two weeks. Everybody in the room smiled welcomingly at me - with the exception of Felicia who continued to ignore my existence and wrote notes in her calendar.

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By Friday afternoon my head was spinning. I'd met with countless people and I was struggling to keep everyone straight. In addition to meeting people from the Development and Membership departments, I'd begun meeting with the curatorial departments. This week alone I'd met people from the departments of Asian Art, Islamic Art, American Art, and Arts of Africa, Oceania and the Americas.

My last meeting on Friday was with the chair and three curators from Greek and Roman Art. I was waiting for them at the entrance to one of the museum's self serve cafés. Thank goodness we were meeting over coffee – I didn't think I'd be able to get through this without a shot of caffeine.

Across the crowd of tourists in the gallery outside the café, I noticed a group of four people dressed in business attire walking with purpose toward the café. Show time.

At the head of the group was a shorter portly man with ruddy cheeks. He was followed by a woman in her fifties with tight curly hair, and a slight man with dark slicked hair. I craned my neck a bit to see the fourth man.

Oh…dear god. My heart pounded and my palms were instantly sweating. It was the Adonis from the coffee shop. He was nattily dressed in a beautiful suit and tie, and his blond hair was neatly pulled back into a ponytail. Mercifully I still had a few seconds to compose myself before we were all face-to-face. I tried to quickly and discreetly swab the sweat from my right palm on the leg of my pants before slapping on a smile and extending my hand to the portly man.

"You must be Sookie Stackhouse. I'm Christos Cataliades, chair of Greek and Roman Art." He gave me a vigorous handshake before angling his body to introduce me to the others.

"May I introduce you to three of our curators - Gary Lowe, Maryellen Keenan, and Eric Northman. They will be your primary contacts for any events that are taking place in our galleries."

I extended my hand and made eye contact with each as we shook hands. Eric gave me a friendly smile when he shook my hand, but I didn't see any signs of recognition on his face. I felt immense relief tinged with a little disappointment.

"Why don't we find a table so we can talk?" suggested Christos.

"I'll get the coffees," said Eric. "Go ahead and start without me."

In Eric's absence I was able to collect myself a bit more.

Christos, Gary and Maryellen were telling me about the fanfare that had surrounded the opening of the new Greek and Roman Court earlier this year. It had been a massive construction project lasting several years and costing $900 million dollars. Christos was in the middle of recounting an amusing story about a group of inebriated Greek bankers attempting to fish coins from the fountain during the opening when Eric lowered himself into the empty seat across the table from me. He tossed a handful of creamers and sugar packets in the middle of the table, and transferred the cups from the tray to the table. He leaned across the table to push a taller cup towards me.

"Skim latte, Sookie?" He gave me a quick wink then turned his attention to the rest of Christos' story.

I stammered out a weak thank you and turned back to Christos, but was no longer registering his words. The blood rushing through my head was too loud and drowned out any coherent thought. At one point I realized that all four faces were looking at me expectantly.

"I-I'm sorry, excuse me?" I said, realizing Christos had just asked me a question.

"Tell us a little about your background." He smiled kindly and spoke a little slower than he had been earlier. Oh jeez. I'm sure they thought I was a complete idiot.

"Well, let's see. I'm originally from Louisiana where I studied Fine Arts in college, but when I moved to the city after school I was offered a job in event planning and fell in love with it. I've been managing events for non-profits and companies in the city now for 11 years."

Maryellen piped in, "I bet party planning is a lot of fun."

I'd always had a stick in my craw about the term 'party planning'. My work isn't rocket science, but I felt like the term minimized and trivialized my career. I knew I should just smile and tell her some anecdotal story about how fun it is to plan parties, but I found myself desperately wanting Eric to not think I had a silly puffball of a career. I chose my words carefully so as to not sound defensive.

"Oh, it certainly has fun moments," I said smiling at Maryellen, "But it takes a lot of work and strategizing to execute a successful multi-leveled event program. They're usually a lot more fun when they're over."

I wanted to shift the focus off of me. "So, tell me about your department's upcoming exhibitions."

Christos did pretty much all the talking for the group. He finally looked down at his watch and announced he needed to leave for another appointment. We tossed our cups and Gary and Maryellen trailed Christos across the gallery. Instead of going with the others, Eric walked with me in the general direction of the administrative wing.

"So, it's not Muddy's, but it'll do." He said gesturing back to the café with his thumb.

'It's not bad at all. I was pretty impressed." I smiled. "So, I guess we're in the same neighborhood - unless you commute to Muddy's?"

He laughed. "Muddy's is good, but it's not _that_ good. I live at 92nd and the park."

"Oh, I'm just around the corner from you on 89th. Have you lived there long?"

"I moved there about six years ago."

"Huh. I'm surprised I've never seen you around the neighborhood. Well, other than Muddy's, of course."

Before either of us could speak further the sound of Felicia's voice and clicking heels floated across the gallery. "Oh, _there _you are Eric." She sidled right up to him and slid her perfectly manicured hand possessively through the crook of his elbow and smiled up at him. I couldn't decipher the look on his face, but noticed he didn't return her smile.

She looked over at me with a maliciously sweet smile and cocked her head. "And I see you've met Cookie."

In unison Eric and I said, "It's Sookie."

She tapped her finger against her temple, shook her head and continued to smile. "I'm sorry, my mnemonic device failed me. Next time I'll just think Sookie - like Snooki."

At that moment I hated her with the heat of a thousand burning suns. Several choice responses popped to mind, most of which would have surely resulted with my ejection from the museum by the nearby guards. I somehow managed to keep my facial muscles and tongue in check. _Be the bigger person, be the bigger person, be the bigger person. _I ignored her comment and gave Eric a small smile.

"It was nice to meet you, Eric." And I turned on my heel and left.


	4. Chapter 4

I pushed through the door of Muddy's and scanned the crowd. Good, no Eric. I desperately needed to fill Amelia in on yesterday's revelation. I sat in my usual spot and found myself impatiently bouncing my knee waiting for her. At long last she brought me my latte and dropped into the empty chair.

"So, how was the first week on the new job?"

"Totally nuts. I've spent the entire week just trying to figure out who people are, what they do, what I do. It's such a massive place – it's going to take me a while to figure out how to navigate the system and the politics there. I didn't do a shred of actual work."

Amelia nodded at me with a sympathetic look on her face.

"And the hot blond guy works there."

"Who?" Amelia looked at me quizzically.

"You know, the hot blond guy." I said and pointed my thumb in the direction of Eric's usual table. "Eric."

"No!" Amelia's voice dropped in disbelief.

"Yep. He's a curator." I recounted yesterday's meeting and encounter with Felicia to Amelia.

She shook her head laughingly in disbelief. "I can't believe he works there. He was in here earlier, but left about a half an hour ago." We sat in contemplative silence for a bit before Amelia spoke again. "So do you really think he and that Felicia chick are an item?"

"I don't know. It seems weird to me. She's been _awful_ every time I've interacted with her. And Eric seems like a decent guy, so if they are an item she must have _some_ redeeming qualities. And I don't think she could have gotten to where she is today if she was _all_ bad. She's got a pretty major job there."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Stop being so charitable, Mother Theresa. Sometimes people are just inherently evil."

"I don't agree with that. And don't call me Mother Theresa. I need to figure out what her deal is and turn the tide or my work life is going to be miserable."

"Well, good luck with that. I say you just take her out." We both laughed and Amelia got up to go back to work.

I worked on the crossword for a while but quickly gave up and left for home.

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Before I knew it, Monday rolled around and I was back in my office.

I clicked open my email and smiled when I saw a message from Bill.

_From: William Compton _  
_To: Sookie Stackhouse _  
_Subject: Lunch?_

_Dear Sookie,_

_You've been working here a week now and I have yet to run into you.  
Do they already have you chained to your desk?  
Let me know if your schedule allows for lunch – I'm free all week._

_Bill_

___From: Sook__ie Stackhouse_  
_To: William Compton_  
_Subject: Re:Lunch? _

_Bill!_

_I think they'll let me out on good behavior for lunch.  
Let's say tomorrow – 1 p.m. in the cafeteria._

_Sookie _

"Sookie?" I looked up from my computer to see Diantha in the doorway and smiled.

"Would you have time to talk about Wednesday's Party of the Year meeting? I've been called out of town and unfortunately won't be back until the end of the week. I want you to know what you're walking into."

"I would _love_ that. Should we sit at the table?" I picked up my pen and notepad and crossed the room to the conference table.

"You seem to be settling in, just fine. Do you feel like you're getting your sea legs?"

"Something like that." I smiled. "There's still a lot of ground to cover, but it will come with time."

"Oh, yes – in no time it will all be second nature to you." She nodded. "So about Wednesday's meeting - you'll soon see that The Party of the Year is of great interest to most everybody here. It's wonderful to have the support, but it means there are a lot of cooks in the kitchen. Ultimately this is Sophie-Anne's show. Your job is to execute her vision. So hang back and let her tell you when she wants your input or ideas." I nodded my understanding.

"Peter Threadgill is the Chair of the Costume Institute which is of course what we call the fashion department here at the museum. He and Sophie-Anne conceptualize the exhibition that accompanies the party. I imagine that Sophie-Anne is planning to announce the title of the exhibition at the meeting."

Last year's exhibition, _Fin de Siècle: Creation of the Femme Fatale, _had received a phenomenal amount of press coverage. It was a decadent exhibit exploring the sexualization of fashion in turn-of-the-century Paris. The designers fully embraced the theme, dressing the models and celebrities attending in jawdroppingly provocative ensembles. Madonna and John Galliano were Honorary Co-Chairs for the night. Madonna wore a racy Galliano design and photos of her rushing the stage during Dita Von Teese's performance were splashed across all the papers the next day. To say the evening caused an uproar among the museum trustees was putting it mildly. I couldn't wait to see what this year's theme would be.

"Who else will be at the meeting?" I asked.

"It always seems to be a cast of thousands, but the most important people are of course Sophie-Anne and Peter, a Costume Institute curator named Lorena Guinness, Pamela Ravenscroft who handles special events for _Stila_. Oh, and Felicia will be there to represent the Development Department."

I breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly through pursed lips at the mention of Felicia's name. It did not escape Diantha's attention.

"Has Felicia been difficult?" she asked

I simply cocked an eyebrow in response.

"I was worried about that when I saw her initial reaction to you. She's bright, charming and incredibly capable, but can behave badly when she feels threatened."

"Why in the world would she feel threatened?' I was stymied.

Diantha smiled at me kindly. "Felicia experienced a meteoric rise in the Development Department and has been treated as though she hung the moon for years. The administrative offices have been buzzing about your arrival and I suspect she feels she's going to be being bumped off by the new hot young thing around here."

"Huh." I grunted. As if. That was just plain stupid.

"I'm sure she'll settle down. She's not going anywhere and I certainly hope you aren't either." She smiled brightly and continued, "Let's get back to business, shall we? Lafayette Reynolds will be at the meeting, but other vendors like Sight & Sound won't get involved until later in the process."

Diantha glanced down at her list of items to cover with me and tapped her index finger on the final bullet point. "I don't believe you've met Andre Wolfe yet?" I shook my head no. She paused for a bit before continuing.

"Andre is the Senior Vice President of Marketing and Communications and will be at the meeting too. He has some, uh, interesting ideas on how to make the Met more relevant. As you know, that's one of our president's concerns. He's long on ambition and short on scruples."

My eyes widened and Diantha laughed. "Don't worry dear. I didn't mean to make that sound quite so ominous. Just be careful."

Be careful? I wanted to ask her more about Andre and what she meant, but Diantha looked at her watch and jumped up to leave.

"I'll touch base with you later this week. Don't hesitate to call me if anything comes up." And with that she was gone.

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I was looking forward to seeing Bill again. We'd only met briefly, but I felt an instant connection with him. Dating him was obviously off the table, so it made pursuit of a friendship easy and uncomplicated.

"Hello, Ms. Stackhouse - fancy meeting you here." I turned to the direction of Bill's voice and he leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, you know I only frequent the finest dining establishments."

"Oh yes. I hear the mac and cheese here is divine. Shall we?" And he gestured toward the food stations. After selecting and paying for our lunches, we made our way through the crowded staff lunchroom to an empty table near a small water fountain.

"So, how is life up in Special Events?"

"It's good. I'm learning to navigate the waters. I did _nothin_g but meet people last week, but this week I've been able to shadow the girls from my office to see the events they've been working on. Fortunately it's a slow time so we only have a handful of corporate parties between now and the holidays. How about you? All good in the world of art conservation?"

"Oh yes. All's peachy for us in the bowels of the museum. It's very glamorous." He said facetiously. I laughed

"At the risk of sounding completely ignorant, what exactly do you do?"

He laughed. "I specialize in art restoration and work almost exclusively with sculpture. They brought me here to work on Augustus."

I looked at him questioningly.

"You may have read that a couple of years ago here at the Met a wooden pedestal that held a marble statue of Emperor Augustus buckled. The statue hit the floor and shattered into thousands of pieces."

I took in a sharp breath. "That's terrible." The thought of the destruction of a piece of antiquity actually made me feel slightly nauseous.

"Yeah. It was quite the talk among the museum community and devastating for the department curators. There's a team of five conservators hired to exclusively work on it. We need to get it back together so it can be returned to the Greek Court. It's going to take another couple of years though."

"I can't believe something like that could be reassembled."

"You'd be surprise how many statues in museums everywhere have been restored. A lot of statues have heads, hands and arms that came from other statues, but it's imperceptible to the naked eye."

We chatted for a while longer about some of the work Bill had done over his career. It was fascinating.

"I'll give you a tour of the lab sometime. I need to be getting back to work though."

I trailed Bill back through the tables. He gave a quick wave across the room. I looked in the direction of his wave and saw Eric and Gary with a couple of other men seated at a table. I gave a little wave too since it seemed rude not to and caught up to Bill's side.

In a low voice Bill spoke into my ear, "Easy on the eyes, huh?"

I just gave Bill a little smile and continued on.

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I decided to wear one of my new purchases from my shopping trip with Claudine – a navy wrap dress - for the Party of the Year meeting. It was a little more fashion forward than my standard suits.

The conference table was nearly full when I walked in. I spotted an empty seat between Sophie-Anne and Felicia. My palms started to sweat a bit until I saw another empty seat across the table. I was beyond thrilled to see it was next to Lafayette and quickly made my way over to claim it. He squeezed my hand as I sat down and kissed my cheek. It was comforting to have a friendly face at the table. Holly and Halleigh were seated in the chairs on the back wall along with the assistants from various departments.

I glanced around the table to get my bearings. I assumed that the statuesque blond standing expectantly near Sophie-Anne was Pamela from _Stila_. To her left was a distinguished looking man who I assumed to be Peter Threadgill. A raven-haired woman with angular features and full pouty lips sat next to him going over papers – Lorena? I had yet to meet with their department.

Felicia wore a dramatically ruffled white blouse and those flat front high waisted black pants that look fabulous on tall, stick thin women and were a minefield for the rest of us. Just ask Jessica Simpson. She looked sophisticated and quite stunning. My attempt at fashion suddenly felt laughable. Felicia was deep in conversation with the man seated to her right. He wore his black hair slicked back. A lavender pocket square peaked out of the breast pocket of his dark pinstriped suit and I glimpsed a flash of a pinky ring. He looked up at me with a smarmy smile. This must be Andre.

"Let's get started." Sophie-Anne announced in a tone that instantly quieted the room. A quick look at my watch told me we still had 5 minutes before the meeting was officially to begin. Huh. I guess whenever she was ready was when we'd start. I made a mental note to always show up for these meetings early. In silence she moved her eyes around room from face to face. It was one of the most intimidating things I've ever witnessed. A little chill ran down my spine when her eyes swept over me.

"As you know, the Party of the Year is the most glamorous, chicest benefit in the city and probably the country. I intend to keep it that way. The team assembled is the best at what they do. You are charged with upholding the high standards of the event and pushing it to greater heights. Nothing less will be accepted."

General Sophie-Anne was apparently preparing us for battle. I had no doubt she could reduce the toughest warrior to tears with her own special brand of psychological warfare.

After allowing a dramatic few seconds for her words to sink in, she carefully recomposed her face so it bore a hint of a smile and began speaking with a slightly warmer tone.

"Peter Threadgill and I have determined the theme of this year's benefit will be _Goddess_." The announcement elicited a few gasps from the crowd and I could hear murmuring from the row of assistants behind me.

Peter spoke up, "We will explore the influence of Greco-Roman dress throughout the ages…fashions that have worshipped the female form and elevated women to something more than mortal. Flowing fabrics that cling to the body - seductively feminine and ethereal."

Before he could speak further Sophie jumped in, "Envision the beautifully and simply draped figures of the statues throughout the Greek and Roman Court, then picture a stunning avant-garde Yves Saint Laurent gown." On cue, Pamela popped up and held two prepared visuals for all to see.

"Isadora Duncan's dance costumes…"

Pamela swiftly dropped the original images and replaced it with a vintage photo.

"Cate Blanchett in Valentino on the red carpet…"

Again, Pamela did the old switcheroo.

"You get the idea. Tom Ford from Gucci and Angelina Jolie will be our Honorary Co-Chairs. We're still working on securing evening entertainment."

I looked to see if Pamela was at the ready with photos of Tom and Ange. Nope.

The Tom and Angelina news got a lot of smiling nods and some golf claps.

At that moment the door to the conference room swung open. When I met the icy blue eyes of the figure in the doorway I dropped my pen and fumbled to pick it back up. Eric confidently stepped towards the conference table and gave Sophie-Anne a kiss on both cheeks. Sophie-Anne gave Eric a smoldering smile in return. Lafayette kicked me under the table. I ignored him. Apparently no one was immune to Eric's good looks.

"My apologies for being late. I was on a call with Athens." He sank into the open chair between Sophie and Felicia. Felicia repositioned herself in the chair so she was slightly closer to Eric.

Sophie-Anne waved her hand dismissively to say it was nothing. "Yesterday I pressed Eric Northman into service for this year's benefit. Rather than mount the show in the Costume Institute space and hold the dinner in Engelhard Court as in years past, we will have both the dinner and exhibition in the new Greek and Roman Court. Exhibiting the costumes in situ will be more exciting."

The crowd was really ooohing and aaahing over this revelation.

"The new Director of Special Events, Sookie Stackhouse, will work with Eric to sort out the logistics of using the space."

This time Lafayette pinched my leg. I jumped slightly, but continued to ignore him.

I made quick eye contact with Eric and gave him the briefest of smiles before diverting my eyes back to my notepad and pretending to write a couple of notes. I didn't dare look at Felicia, but I could feel the icy blast of her gaze. This sure wouldn't do anything to help my relationship with her.

"As you know, every year _Stila _runs a photo spread to promote the Party of the Year. This year's shoot will happen in January and will run in _Stila'_s March issue. Felicia, Lorena and Pamela will once again be in the shoot. To mix it up a bit, I've decided to add Eric to the shoot as a counterpoint to the three ladies."

I noticed that both Felicia and Lorena had smug little grins on their faces at the mention of the photo shoot. Pamela, however, remained expressionless. I got the feeling she could take it or leave it. Once again, more murmuring from around the room.

"Now let's go down to the Court for an initial walk-through."

Sophie-Anne perched her dark sunglasses on top of her perfect hair, flung her cropped fur coat around her bony shoulders, handed her large handbag to Pamela to carry and glided out the door with everybody else trailing behind her.

Lafayette and I took the stairs to avoid the wait for the elevator. On our way down Lafayette looked over his shoulder to make sure we were alone then turned back and said, "Did we really just find out we're going to spend the next few months planning a big fucking toga party?"

"Yes - yes we did." I cracked up. "I have no doubt it will be beautiful though. Sophie-Anne never misses the mark."

I pushed the heavy stairwell door onto first floor and we rejoined the rest of the group.

The Greek and Roman Court was majestic. I was excited to have the chance to plan an event here. The expansive space was dotted by exquisite sculptures on pedestals. A soaring two-story atrium in the center of the court flooded the space with light. Columns set in a rectangle defined the atrium. In the center of the atrium was a large round fountain. Additional galleries ringed the space outside the columns. It was a transporting venue and would be very special for the benefit.

I took the opportunity to introduce myself to Peter, Lorena, Pamela and Andre. Even without Diantha's words of warning I wouldn't have trusted Andre. As I spoke with him I felt like I could see the wheels turning in his brain, and I had no idea where they were taking him.

Fortunately, Sophie-Anne hooked arms with me and Eric and led us to the middle of the court away from the others. "I'm envisioning the stage at the far end of this space, and the tables extending to the outer galleries. Can we move that fountain?"

Eric shook his head no.

"Well, we'll just have to work around it, but please see if anything can be done. I'd like to look into setting up an outdoor lounge just outside those doors in the park." She gestured to several emergency exit doors on the far side of the court.

She continued on and I concentrated fiercely to process and remember everything she wanted. She still had my arm so I couldn't exactly take notes.

"Sookie, I want you to work with Jean-Luc to come up with a 'Feast for the Gods.' And start working with Lafayette on two different décor proposals. I like to have options. We'll meet directly after the photo shoot to discuss, so come and have them ready."

Sophie-Anne disengaged her arms from our elbows, turned and walked back to the others without another word to either of us. Eric and I looked at each other. He looked slightly shell shocked.

"Now, how did you manage to get yourself roped into this thing?" I smiled.

"I have no idea." He said, laughing and shaking his head. "And now I've got to do this photo shoot too. I'm never going to live that down."

I laughed and changed the subject back to business. "It will be great to do the event in this space – it's magnificent."

"Yes, it is." He smiled. "It is modeled on Imperial Roman architecture – this kind of court – with the columns and the surrounding gallery - is called a peristyle court." He pointed out the red and green marble floor and explained the significance of the pattern and then placing his hand on the small of my back pointed out how the galleries were arranged. The heat radiating from his hand through the thin fabric of my dress was making it very difficult for me to concentrate.

He dropped his hand from my back, stuck both in his pockets and faced me. "We should probably meet soon to talk about this in more detail. I'm a little concerned about some of the set-ups Sophie-Anne is envisioning – I have to make sure the art is protected."

No kidding – after the story Bill told me about Augustus I couldn't believe they'd allow anything like this to happen in the space.

"I completely understand. Would late next week work for you? We've got some corporate events earlier in the week and I'm just not sure what my time commitment will be for them yet."

"How about 3:30 on Friday?" he suggested.

"That works for me. Where should I meet you.'

"Let's meet at the fountain."

I felt a giddy rush - you'd have thought I'd just made a real date with him. I was broken out of my happy haze by the approach of Felicia.

"Eric, I'm leaving now but will you pick me up at 7:00?"

His face darkened. "Yeah. I'll be there."

Felicia turned and left. She'd ignored my existence today and that was fine by me. I wish I were capable of ignoring hers.

"I've gotta go, Sookie. I'll see you later." I watched his figure retreat and tried to make sense of everything. Nothing was making sense though.

When I turned back to rejoin the group, I noticed Andre seated on a bench, looking in my direction with a slight smile on his face. Those wheels were definitely turning.

_**A/N I should mention that The Party of the Year really does happen at the Met, and  
they did use a Goddess theme a few years ago. It fit the story too well to change it.**_

_**Thank you so much to those of you who have added this story to your alerts,  
and especially to those who have left reviews. They are very much appreciated!!**_

_**I have updated my profile and added in some links for the first two chapters.  
I'll try to add in more if you like them. Hope you enjoy :)**_


	5. Chapter 5

I resisted logging onto the New York Social Diary website for almost an hour once I got to work. I checked my voicemail. I went to the cafeteria for a latte. I checked the weather. I confirmed the load-in schedule for tonight's event with Holly and Halleigh. And then I caved.

Scrolling down the page of event photos I finally found what I saw looking for. Clicking to enlarge the photo, I sucked in a big breath and slowly blew it out as I studied the photo of Eric and Felicia. She of course looked flawless in a dark teal silk cocktail dress. The small, petty side of me kicked in and I smiled. They would be a great looking couple if Eric didn't look so miserable.

I clicked back and saw they'd gone to a cocktail party for the New York State Council on the Arts. Crane Events coordinated the party a few years back. It drew officials from all the city's cultural and arts organizations. I did a search to see which events they'd attended together over the past few months: a benefit for PublicArt; the black tie dinner for CITYarts; a dinner party at Tiffany hosted by Bank of America – one of the Met's biggest corporate underwriters; and a cocktail party in honor of Thomas Atkins, one of the Met's trustees. I was pondering the fact that everything seemed to relate to the museum in some way when my phone rang.

"This is Sookie."

"Good morning, sunshine. Miss me?"

"Claudine! I miss you desperately, of course. How are things over there?"

"We're fine. Working out a few kinks with the transition, but overall great. The girls in the office have really stepped up their game. The big question is how are _you_? Do you feel like I fed you to the wolves?"

I laughed, "No, you didn't feel me to the wolves, although it hasn't exactly been a cakewalk."

After chatting for a while about Party of the Year and this evening's corporate event, Claudine said she needed to jump on a conference call. "Oh, I almost forgot. Did you see the Wall Street Journal today?"

"No, why?"

"There's an article about Victor in it. You'll want to make sure to read it."

We said our goodbyes and I hurried down the hall to the finance department to borrow a copy since our department only got the New York Times and the Post.

Front page, above the fold, read the headline: _**Has Madden lost his Midas Touch?**_

Oh boy - that's not good.

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Holly, Halleigh and I trekked down to the Temple of Dendur in the Egyptian Art wing of the museum for a last minute check on the set-up for the evening's event. Just inside the glass double doors to the space, two massive sarcophagi set the stage for the rest of the room – a sleek and modern space with soaring four story high ceilings. Three of the walls were granite and the fourth, a huge sloping sheet of glass, looked onto Central Park.

In the center of the room was a large raised granite platform surrounded by a channel of water the museum cleverly called 'The Nile." In the center of the raised platform stood the ancient Temple and it's impressive entrance arch. The temple and arch were dramatically uplit in warm amber tones, and the back wall of the room was washed with light to look like a starry deep blue sky. Hundreds of votive candles lined the Nile.

Waiters lined up along The Nile at the base of the steps to the platform bearing silver trays of champagne, white wine and sparkling water. Soft strains of music from the classical trio stationed in front of the Temple began just as guests started to stream in through the double doors.

Within an hour the party was in full swing. Because it was a cocktail party with no speeches, we were able to relax a bit. The three of us snatched champagne from a passing waiter and discreetly sipped it against the back wall, chatting about the upcoming break. Holly and Halleigh seemed to be warming up to me a bit which was a relief. It was a quarter to nine and we still had at least an hour to go. I was hoping to get some ideas to Lafayette before the holiday break for the Party of the Year décor, so told the two I was going to slip out for a bit.

I'd never walked through the museum at night when it was deserted. The galleries between the Temple from the main entrance were lit for the event, but once I was past the entrance and out of the Great Hall, the gallery lighting was minimal – the only light emanating from the glass cases and vitrines that housed objects. I timidly walked a third of the way across the Greek and Roman Court and paused, nearly turning back from the eerie shivers running down my spine. I shook it off and continued across the court – my footsteps echoing through the atrium until I reached the carpeting of the outer galleries.

I peered inside the long cases of pottery and terra cottas looking for inspiration. There were rows and rows of pots, urns, and bowls. I was hoping to find inspiration for the centerpiece containers and became totally engrossed by an intricate design on one of the urns.

I heard a sound behind me and a deep voice call, "Sookie?"

I shrieked and spun around. "Jesus _Christ_! You scared me half to death!" My heart was pounding out of my chest.

Eric wore a self-satisfied grin for a few seconds before going deadly serious. "Does security know you're snooping around here?'

"I – I…" I was stuttering and I could feel my cheeks flush.

"Sookie, I'm just joking." He smiled and patted my upper arm reassuringly.

I laughingly sighed and shook my head. "Hey, stop hazing the new girl."

"I could, but what would be the fun in that?"

"I'm not so worried about your amusement as I am about not having a heart attack at 32."

"Fair enough. So what brings you here at the ungodly hour of 9 o'clock?"

"I thought I'd multitask and see if I could find centerpiece ideas for Lafayette while waiting for the event in Dendur to end."

"What are you looking for specifically?"

"A relatively low footed container with a wide opening up top." I gestured with my hands to try to explain. "I'm hoping I can find an authentic shape and have Lafayette source metallic versions or have them specially cast."

He thought for a moment. "I think there are some kylix and skyphos over in this case that sound like what you've described."

Moving to the case he'd indicated, I saw exactly what I'd been looking for. "These are perfect. Thanks."

"Hopefully it makes up for earlier?"

"Partially." I smirked.

"Wow, tough crowd."

I shrugged. "I better get back to the party."

"I'll walk out with you."

I was glad to have the company. We were almost through the sculpture gallery just off the Great Hall when a figure emerged from behind one of the huge columns. I jumped but fortunately didn't shriek this time.

"Good evening, Ms. Stackhouse. Eric."

Ugh. Andre.

"Hello, Andre." Said Eric rather coldly. I just gave Andre a close-lipped smile.

His beady eyes narrowed. "You're both here awfully late."

"I've been working on some research." Explained Eric.

"I'm headed back to the event in Dendur."

Andre paused for a couple of seconds then tilted his head smiling slightly. "I see. Well, good evening." And he walked toward the doors to leave.

I looked at Eric questioningly, but he just shook his head and continued on.

We continued on to the Great Hall. Near the exit we exchanged goodbyes and I returned to the party.

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I was waiting for my latte in the cafeteria the next morning when I saw Sam approach, smiling broadly.

"Good morning, young lady. Just the person I was looking for." His speech pattern hinted of a different era – punctuating words throughout his sentences with enthusiasm, like the stereotypical private eye from a film noir.

"Oh?" I smiled questioningly.

"I'd like to take you to lunch. But none of this cafeteria garbage…there's a great diner up the street. They make the one of the best reubens in the city."

"I love reubens." I smiled.

"It's a date. I'll come by your office at noon."

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Three Guys was your typical diner with vinyl booths, formica topped tables, a wall of mirrors and a rotating dessert case in the front corner. A long lunch counter ran nearly the length of the counter, packed with people on their lunch break.

"So, where are you from down south?"

"A little town in northern Louisiana called Bon Temps."

"Never been there. Do you eat alligator?"

That was the last question I was expecting. "Well, I've have eaten once. It tastes like chicken." I shrugged.

"Figures." He nodded his head in deep thought. "I was born and bred in the Bronx. My wife Harriet and I moved to Yonkers after we got married. She died five years ago, but I still live in our house."

Just then the waitress delivered our reubens and we dug in. It easily beat the pants off everything in the cafeteria.

"How long have you been at the Met?" I asked. I wanted to know more about Harriet, but didn't feel comfortable asking.

"I've been there part-time since I retired from the force ten years ago. I like to work, it keeps me sharp." He grinned and tapped the handle of his knife against his temple. He told me some stories of his life as a detective, and before that as a cop.

I was taking a long sip of water when he asked, "So tell what's going on with you and Northman?"

I nearly choked. "Nothing's going on. We're just working on the Party of the Year together."

"You say that, but I've seen you two steal glances at each other." I sheepishly remembered doing just that on our walk-through, but I wondered how he could have seen that?

He saw my confused look and laughed. "Sookie, there are cameras everywhere in the museum. We've got to keep an eye on things, you know. You two looked pretty friendly last night in the Greek and Roman Court." He waggled his eyebrows at me.

"I just ran into him last night – really it's nothing."

He sighed and looked at me. "You like him, I can tell you do. I'm observant." He winked.

"Well sure, I like him just fine. But we just met and we work together. Plus I think he's seeing somebody."

He snorted. "Who? Felicia? Boy, is she ever a bitch on wheels. Never liked that broad." He shook his head and continued, "She only wishes she was humping Northman, but I'd bet twenty bucks they're not."

I was blushing furiously.

"Why are you blushing? Do you want me to talk to him for you?"

"No! God no!" My eyes shot wide open.

He laughed. "Ah, don't worry, I won't say anything. But don't muck things up pussyfooting around."

He paid for our lunch and we headed back to museum.

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I'd been looking forward to Friday afternoon all week. It was my last day in the office before my holiday vacation and I had the added bonus of meeting with Eric. I wove my way across the crowded court and found him waiting for me by the fountain.

"Wow, it's a really busy day." I remarked.

He smiled and explained, "It always gets crowded here around the holidays. All the tourists in the city taking a break from shopping."

"I drew a rough floor plan based on what Sophie-Anne discussed last week. I'm sure this will change, but thought we could use it as a jumping off point. Does this seem to make sense from your perspective?"

He looked it over carefully and said, "This looks pretty good. I'd want to make sure there's more space between the tables and the sculptures over here." I nodded as he pointed to the plan.

He continued, "Placement of the speakers stacks is going to be important too. The vibrations from the speakers can actually knock small objects in the cases over, so we'll need to be careful."

"The sound guy is great – he'll take care of whatever you need and we can test the decibel levels ahead of time to ensure that doesn't happen. So what about that outdoor area Sophie-Anne wants? I don't know what the Met's relationship with the Parks Department is like, but from my experience you'd be hard pressed to get permission to set up a tent here." I said.

"Even if the Parks Department would let it happen, Christos would never agree to it – it would leave our galleries too exposed."

"I'd like to come up with another option for Sophie-Anne. Maybe we could simulate an outdoor space in the Temple of Dendur?" I suggested.

"That could work....but don't forget there's also the roof garden – the lounge area could still be outside, but the guests are contained."

"That's a great idea. I've actually never seen the space – do you mind if we check it out?" I asked.

"It's closed this time of year, but I'm sure we can just get somebody from security to let us up there." We took the elevators to the fifth floor and I poked my head in the security manager's office. The only person I saw was, of course, Sam. Shit.

"Ms. Stackhouse! What brings you up to the security office today."

"I was hoping to check out the roof garden as a potential spot for the Party of the Year – would it be possible to let us take a peek?"

Sam's eyes darted past me to Eric and back to me.

"Sure, sure. Anything for you, Sookie."

He led us down a hallway and up a short stairwell to a large metal door. Opening the door with a key, he gave us a goofy salute and headed back down the stairs.

It was a sunny day, but cold. We weren't wearing coats so I wanted to make this quick. The large L shaped space was bordered by a well-manicured boxwood hedge and hovered just above the treeline of the park. From this vantage point you could see the expanse of the park bounded by apartment buildings all along Central Park West to the west, Fifth Avenue to the east, and the skyscrapers of Midtown Manhattan to the south.

"This is perfect. It makes more sense than a tent in the park anyway. The height and views give it the feel of the Acropolis."

Eric smiled and nodded in agreement. "Crisis averted."

We turned back to the door – Eric pulled on the handle but it didn't budge.

"It's locked."

"Oh _great_. I've got my phone - I'll just call Sam."

The desk phone went to voicemail. "Hi Sam. It's Sookie. We're locked out on the roof – can you come let us back in?"

I tried his cell next. It went straight to voicemail so I left another message.

"I think he must be on his phone. I'm sure he'll be here soon."

We shuffled around a bit – arms crossed and hunched against the cold. The sun was starting to dip in the sky so I moved to the western edge of the roof, leaning against the railing to take in the view. Eric followed and we watched in companionable silence for a while.

"So, what are your plans for the holidays?" I asked, breaking the silence in an attempt to take my mind off the cold.

"I'm going up to Vermont. My parents are still there and my sister lives nearby with her family. She's got three boys so it gets a little crazy, but it's nice to go home." He smiled and I could see the laugh lines crinkling around his eyes. His blue eyes shone clearer in the late afternoon sun.

"That sounds nice."

"What about you? Going to visit your family?"

"No, I'm going to Brazil."

"I love Brazil – it's a beautiful country. That's nice of your family to spare you for the holidays."

"Well, I don't have much family to speak of. My parents died when I was younger, and my grandmother passed a few years ago. I have a brother in Louisiana but we're not close. I like to travel over the holidays since work's usually not as busy."

"Do you have a favorite place you like you visit?"

"I have lots of favorite places, but I don't let myself go back to the same place twice. I came to the conclusion a while ago that life's too short and the world's too big to not see as much of it as I can."

"Who do you usually travel with?"

"Oh, I go by myself."

"Really?" He looked genuinely surprised. "Not many people feel comfortable doing that."

"I love it. I get to do exactly what I want and move at my own pace. And I feel like I can soak it all in, but if you're with somebody else there's immediately a barrier of sorts between you and the rest of the world."

"So I take it you've traveled with other people before and it hasn't been a good experience?"

"Uh, no actually. I guess I just assume that's what it would be like."

He laughed.

"What about you? Are you a traveler or a homebody?"

"I travel a lot for work and try to tack on extra days here and there so I can see more than the hotel I'm parked in."

"Where do you like to go?"

"I really love Asia. I find eastern culture fascinating – probably because my work is totally rooted in western civilization so it's an escape. And then the Mediterranean, of course – Greece, Italy, Turkey."

"Of course!" I smacked my palm to my forehead. "I should ask you."

"Ask me what?"

"I'm going to Greece right after the Party of the Year. I've been to Athens and Santorini before, so I'm planning to explore some of the other islands. I'd love to get any suggestions that you have. I mean, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all."

Our heads swung around at the sound of a loud metallic bang behind us. The door swung open and Sam stuck his head out. "Sorry, I forgot it was locked from the inside."

As I passed, Sam winked at me and I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I sincerely doubted he 'forgot' anything.

I descended and stairs and turned the corner to the elevator. Eric followed and I called "Happy Holidays" back to Sam.

When we got off the elevators Eric said, "Have a great time in Brazil, Sookie."

"Thanks. You have fun with your family in Vermont. And make sure you get plenty of beauty sleep so you're ready for the big photo shoot." I teased.

His eyes and his headed dropped back. "Ahhh. Don't remind me."

"Sorry. Can't help myself."

"Merry Christmas, Sookie." He smiled.

"Merry Christmas." I turned and walked off, smiling all the way back to my office.

_**A/N I know, I know.....you're still wondering about Felicia. And want an Eric P.O.V. It's coming.....all in good time, dear readers. Thank you for bearing with me!**_


	6. Chapter 6

I spent ten glorious days in Brazil. After exploring Rio, I headed north to the laidback seaside village of Porto de Galinhas. I befriended two French women about my age and we hung out most nights eating incredible fresh seafood at the tiny outdoor restaurants before heading to makeshift bars on the beach to drink caipirinhas and attempting to dance forro. During the day I soaked up the sun and took a few surfing lessons, read, and didn't think about anything work related.

In the airport on my way back, I managed to find a copy of the New York Times – I wanted the crossword for the long flight home. Settling into my seat on the plane, I thumbed through the paper to catch up on the news. Another short article about Victor's company was in the Business Section:

_MADDEN INVESTORS SKITTISH AFTER COLLAPSE OF SOLTECH DEAL_

_Three investors in The Madden Company have put in redemption notices on the heels of last month's failed Soltech deal. Founded 25 years ago by Victor Madden, the firm __focuses primarily on leveraged buyouts of mature businesses. The firm was one of the pioneers of the leveraged buyout industry, and since inception has completed over $400 billion of private equity transactions. Madden and his managers are scrambling to ease investor worries and hold onto the firm's capital._

I was sure this was taking a toll on Victor not only professionally but personally, and made a note to ask Claudine if she'd spoken with him. I hadn't completed more than five words of the crossword before falling asleep and didn't awaken until we were about to land.

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The return to work wasn't nearly as painful as I'd anticipated. I felt like I was finally gaining a foothold at the museum, and I was genuinely excited about the upcoming slate of events – especially the Party of the Year.

A joint meeting of the Special Events, Development and Communications Departments was called for Wednesday afternoon. I noticed that the President, Catherine Coulson, was in attendance too. I reported first, giving a brief account of the upcoming events over the next month and an update on the Costume Institute Benefit.

Felicia, looking uncharacteristically frazzled, followed my report. "I have some unfortunate news to report. Due to the city's budget crisis, City Council has slashed funding of the museum's education programs by 70 percent."

Whispers spread through the room, and Catherine rose to speak, "We are scrambling to identify other funding sources to replace this loss, but we are coming up short and running out of options. This will undoubtably impact our educational outreach to public school children and result in reduced programming."

I couldn't enjoy a proper feeling of schadenfreude knowing that kids were the real losers in this situation.

Catherine continued, "A press release will be circulated on Monday. We anticipate there will be a public outcry and the press will be eager for more information. Please refer any questions that may come your way from the press to Andre so we can deliver a consistent message."

At the conclusion of the meeting I returned to the office and picked up my phone, "Victor Madden, please. This is Sookie Stackhouse calling."

Within 20 minutes I was in a cab headed down to The Madden Company's midtown offices.

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"Sookie, it's so good to see you." Victor boomed a little less enthusiastically than usual, but still warmly greeted me with a handshake and a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Victor. I'm sure you're very busy."

"Have you seen the papers?"

"Yes, I have. That's in part why I'm here."

"Oh really?" He asked with a slightly amused tone.

I was quite nervous, but summoned up as much courage as I could gather and continued. "I'm speaking under the presumption that The Madden Company remains on firm financial footing, and the investor issues are simply a matter of perception."

He leaned toward me slightly over the conference table to listen more intently. "Yes, you are correct. The Madden Company is in excellent shape financially. Actually, we are positioned to not only weather the current economic crisis, but profit handsomely from it. Well, that is if we can convince our investors to not jump ship. If they do we will be ruined."

"Victor, if I may be so bold, I have a proposition that I think may help you."

"I'm all ears."

"The Met has just suffered a significant cut in city funding for its education programs. In light of the economy, they're having a difficult time finding a donor to come in at the eleventh hour and bail the program out."

"And you thought that The Madden Company would step up to the plate?"

"Well, Victor, it seems to me that this is a prime opportunity for a company to get the most bang for their donor buck. This story is going to hit the press on Monday and it _will_ create a stir because this isn't just about art, it's about opportunities for public school kids, many of whom are underserved. The company or individual who steps in will be seen as a hero, not just at the museum, but citywide. And on top of that, you'd be aligning yourself with a cultural powerhouse that was founded by some of the most respected names in business – J.P. Morgan was president of the board for over a decade."

Victor looked out for the window for a few moments considering. "That certainly would send a clear message to our investors that The Madden Company is here to stay. Of course it's not as simple as that, but I like this idea and I do think we would benefit from the association. And it's in line with my educational funding priorities. The museum has tried to get to me for years, but it's never before made sense for me."

I smiled and nodded.

"And one of the best parts is that I'd be able to tease the mayor about having to clean up one of his messes." He smiled. "That alone could be worth it." The mayor was a close friend and had attended the 25th Anniversary party.

"Why don't we do this, Sookie - let this hit the press on Monday and then you talk to that President of yours, Coulson or whatever her name is Monday afternoon to set up a meeting with me. No, make it Tuesday. I want the museum to sweat a little. I'm not making any promises, but I will give it serious consideration."

"Thank you, Victor.' I felt giddy. Knowing our meeting was coming to a close, I asked about Margot.

A look of sadness flashed across Victor's face. "She ran off with her tennis instructor when we were in Bermuda over Thanksgiving. Seems he'd been giving her more than just lessons for the last couple of years we'd been vacationing there."

"Oh, Victor. I'm so sorry to hear about this."

"I suspect it will be hitting the gossip pages soon too. Once they've got you on the hook for one thing, they're bound to drag up something else. All the more reason to have something positive printed about me."

We chatted for a few moments more before I headed back to the office. I had a good feeling about this.

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On Friday morning I met Lafayette at his design studio in Chelsea so we could go to the photo studio together. I was to present initial menu concepts to the group immediately following the shoot and Lafayette needed to be there should Sophie-Anne want to discuss décor.

We arrived at Milk Studios in the Meatpacking District a few minutes before the shoot was scheduled to begin. The lobby aesthetic was raw and industrial – exposed brick, corroded steel beams and polished concrete floors. A freight elevator took us up to the fifth floor, opening onto a serene white space and the chilling sound of a very livid Sophie-Anne. We followed the sounds down the hall and poked our heads timidly around the doorframe into the studio.

"How could she do this? She knows how important this is." Sophie-Anne seethed.

Felicia, Lorena and Eric were dressed for the shoot and had a virtual army of wardrobe, hair and makeup assistants hovering around them. The two women looked positively statuesque and, yes, goddess-like, in their flowing white Gucci evening gowns. Eric looked every bit a model in a light grey suit with a trim modern cut – his white shirt unbuttoned far enough to hint at the muscular chest beneath without crossing the line into cheese ball territory. His hair was loose and a little tousled.

"Dayum." Lafayette growled under his breath and leaned into me as though he'd collapse from the hotness.

I giggled a little at Lafayette's reaction, and Sophie-Anne's eyes popped up to meet mine. Andre stood beside her.

"There you are, Sookie. Pamela isn't coming – she apparently has the swine flu." Her bitchy exasperation was quite humorous since I wasn't the subject of it. "I need you to step in for her."

Any hint of a smile on my face instantly vanished, and I felt as though I'd been plunged in cold water.

"Oh," I started shaking my head. "Oh no, I - I don't think that would be possible. I…"

Sophie-Anne cut me off with an icy, "I'm not asking you, Sookie."

I gulped and stood like a deer caught in the headlights of Sophie-Anne's oncoming crazy train. I was having trouble processing thoughts, but heard Sophie-Anne say something about me portraying Pandora in the shoot with Felicia as Aphrodite and Lorena as Circe. I vaguely registered Eric smirking at me from across the room.

"Sook, you've got the face and the bod for this – Gucci's got the wardrobe and Sophie-Anne's covering the rest." Lafayette encouraged.

One of the assistants hooked my arm and dragged me to a hot and stuffy back room where I was instantly enveloped in the powdery smell of beauty products. Sophie-Anne soon followed, flanked by an additional two assistants. "I want flowing, unstructured hair and natural makeup. I think one of the two dresses on the far rack might work." She vanished from the room and the three assistants descended upon me like wolves. I was out of my glasses, defrocked, and my hair stripped from my bun in less than a minute.

The first dress was too long in length and too tight in the bust, but the second fit like a glove. It was a simple one-shoulder gown of creamy white silk jersey that clung to my curves. A thin braided white silk rope loosely encircled my waist and tied just above my right hip where the skirting was slightly gathered before falling long and slender to my ankles. Having sorted out wardrobe, the ladies went to work on my hair and makeup.

Fifteen minutes later I was surprised by the transformation. As directed by Sophie-Anne, my blond hair, streaked a little lighter than usual thanks to my week on the beach, cascaded in long loose waves down my shoulders and back. My skin still retained a glow from the sun and the makeup artist played up the sun kissed look.

I took a last look in the mirror, knowing I needed to get in the studio. Hesitating at the door, I drew a deep breath before taking a few timid steps into the studio. Large lights and reflectors kept the set bright and the remainder of the room in relative shadow. All attention was focused on Felicia, Lorena and Eric – the photographer was arranging them into position but had left a spot for me to be dropped in. Sophie-Anne and Andre were standing with their backs to me watching the set-up with a critical eye. Eric's eyes settled on me first which caught Felicia's attention. Felicia followed his gaze. Her face, upon seeing me, contorted into anger and she shot daggers out of her eyes. Extreme discomfort spread over me as everybody else turned to look.

The photographer stepped forward with a friendly smile, putting me a little more at ease. "There's our Pandora. Hi, I'm Alcide Herveaux." He was ruggedly handsome with a crop of unkempt chestnut hair, and deep green eyes. His warm hand encircled mine and he guided me to my waiting spot to the right of Felicia. I focused on Alcide to avoid looking at the others

"We will have our three goddesses grouped around Eric who is our modern day Eros, a.k.a. Amor, or Cupid." Huh. I guess that explained the arrow he was holding.

"Let's see," he said looking over his shoulder. "We've got your box around here somewhere, let me get it and…."

"No, she's not Pandora." Sophie-Anne interrupted, slowly shaking her head side to side and tapping her index finger on her bottom lip. Her eyes narrowed slightly as though she was deep in thought and a sly grin spread across her face. "She's Psyche."

"Alcide – come, let's quickly discuss another plan….if everybody could wait for 5 minutes please."

_Psyche_? Oh Jesus. I'm not 100% on top of my Greek Goddesses, but I am quite familiar with the statue of Psyche and Eros in a passionate embrace at the Louvre. I spent a couple of hours drawing it on my last visit to Paris. Just the thought of the statue in relation to me and Eric made my cheeks burn. I was too flustered to face Eric, Lorena or Felicia.

Mercifully Lafayette grabbed my elbow and dragged me to the corner of the room and growled at me in hushed tones, "Mmm, mmm, mmm - is that you, Sookie girl? You've been holding out on us for years under your prim and proper Brooks Brothers suits."

"Please, Lafayette? Please don't give me trouble…." I whisper-hissed. "I am about 3,000 miles outside of my comfort zone here. I'm not the picture, I'm the nail! I'm the behind-the-scenes girl who gets shit done. I always have been. It's who I am! It's where I'm comfortable! How did I get here?" I was a little nauseous and starting to feel slightly hysterical. I considered making a run for it. Screw this job.

"Sookie, shhh….Sookie. Relax. Breathe. Don't make this into a bigger deal than it is. Just relax and enjoy it. Chalk it up to one of those crazy New York experiences that you never saw coming."

I breathed in deeply and exhaled several times trying to regain my composure. "You're right, you're right. I can handle this. I'm a goddamned professional. Although there is _nothing_ in my job description about doing photo shoots dressed as a freaking goddess."

Lafayette chuckled and gave me a reassuring squeeze on my arm, as Sophie-Anne returned to the studio with Alcide. I turned toward them and moved back to the set.

"Okay people, this is what we're going to do. We're going to get a tableau shot with just the ladies – sorry Eric. But then we're going to get some shots of Sookie and Eric as Psyche and Eros." Announced Alcide.

I pressed my lips together tightly and tried to will away the redness that was creeping up my chest plate to my hairline, but I've sadly never been able to successfully control my blushing. I steeled myself inside and chanted my new mantra of the day…_I can do this, I can do this, I can do this._

The shoot of the three ladies, while not easy or short, passed without incident. Alcide released Felicia and Lorena to get changed and beckoned Eric up to the set. He'd been sitting on a small leather sofa in a darkened corner so even if I hadn't been furiously trying to avoid looking at him I probably wouldn't have been able to see him during the first shoot.

Alcide turned to the remaining people in the room, "Folks, may I ask all of you to please leave the studio while we get this next shot set up? Thank you."

'Sookie, Eric – before we get started I'll tell you the abridged story of Psyche and Eros, although I'm sure you're already know, Eric. I find that it's always helpful for models to know the back story of a narrative scene."

"Aphrodite was the Goddess of love and beauty and her son Eros was the God of desire. Psyche was merely human, but so stunningly beautiful that the people of her country stopped worshipping Aphrodite and instead paid their honors to Psyche. Psyche didn't seek the attention and in fact resisted it, but Aphrodite was angry and wanted to put Psyche in her place. She ordered Eros to use his powers to cause Psyche to fall in love with the most grotesque man on earth. Eros crept into her room one night, intending to shoot her with his arrow, but scratched himself by mistake with the tip of his arrow, and fell deeply in love with her. Aphrodite caused all sorts of additional trouble for the two, but yadda, yadda, yadda, it all worked out and Zeus made Psyche the Goddess of the soul and they lived happily ever after."

I was nervous and realized I was wringing my hands and breathing in and out deeply. I ventured a glance at Eric and he gave me a quick nervous grin.

Alcide smiled at me reassuringly. "I assure you this will be both tasteful and beautiful. Sophie-Anne would skin me alive if it were any other way. I'll be directing you through the shoot, so just relax."

"Let's get to it. Sookie – if I could have you sit on the edge of this pedestal, with your legs dangling over and crossed at the ankles, hands resting on the pedestal edge. Lean forward slightly and turn your head a bit to the left looking down to the floor. Yes - just like that, very nice." He pushed my hair behind my right shoulder exposing my neck and right shoulder.

"Eric, I want you seated as closely behind Sookie as possible without touching her. Brace your weight with your left arm. Whoa, watch out for that arrow. Just hold it in your right hand and rest it in a comfortable position on your leg." My muscles tensed and I held my breath as I sensed Eric draw up behind me. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body as he closed the distance between us.

"Eric, lean down toward Sookie's ear like you're going to tell her a secret."

I could feel his breath warming the skin of my neck and a couple strands of his loose hair brushed against the bare skin of my shoulder. I took in another deep breath.

Alcide fired off a few shots and paused to adjust a light. During that pause Eric leaned forward an inch more said in a low voice, "This doesn't feel very professional. Not that you'll catch me complaining."

"Highly uprofessional." I whispered back without moving. I couldn't prevent the corner of my mouth from creeping into a little smile, but I was desperately trying to stick to Alcide's directions so fought to compose my face when I could hear the camera clicking again. Eric's acknowledgment of the awkward situation made feel a little more comfortable and I could sense him start to relax a bit too.

"Sookie, if I could have you please look up a bit in the direction of the camera and lay your right hand in your lap. Eric, I'll take that arrow from you so you can wrap your right arm loosely around her waist."

My stomach clenched as his hand slowly and tentatively slid over the silk of my dress and across my abdomen finally stopping just beyond my bellybutton. His chest was pressed against the right side of my back. I involuntarily closed my eyes momentarily, and could feel the vibrations in his chest as he groaned under his breath – so quietly that it was inaudible to Alcide.

'Beautiful." Alcide said, the sound of the shutter was incessant for the next few minutes as he had us make minor adjustments and took some more shots.

"Now Sookie, I want you to shift your body so your shoulders are still open to the camera but angled toward Eric. Yes, and swing your legs around a bit"

Avoiding looking up at Eric, I studied the smooth skin and golden hairs of his exposed triangle of chest.

"Sookie, please look Eric in the eye."

Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, I dragged my eyes up to meet his intense gaze but had to quickly glance down for a few seconds before looking back – my heart pounding. Eric's lips edged up into a smile and I gave him a faint smile back. Our smiles slowly faded and I was looking at Eric more intently than I'd ever looked at another person before. My eyes roamed across his face - the long line of his nose, the fringe of eyelashes that were longer than I'd previously noticed, his beautiful full lips. Faint lines ran the length of his forehead, radiated from the corners of his eyes and bracketed his mouth. I thought of the lifetime of happiness, sadness and experiences that had formed these lines. I ran over every detail of his face before settling back to the ice blue of his eyes, which I saw were ringed in a deep blue gray.

The rest of the room dropped away. The only thing I was aware of was my breathing, and the sensation of the places where our bodies were touching. Alcide continued to give direction, but it was as though my subconscious was speaking to me. I followed his direction but barely registered his voice. Eric raised his hand and slowly ran a fingertip from the curve of my shoulder down the skin of my bare arm. I never took my eyes off his, which had broken our gaze to follow the progress of his index finger. My nerve endings sparked under the trail of his touch.

"Eric, please raise your hand to cup Sookie's cheek." Raising his hand, he lightly brushed back a piece of my hair before tracing his finger down the contour of my face and then coming back up to rest on my cheek. He had leaned down closer to me and our noses were mere inches apart. My stomach flipped again and my heart was beating heavily.

"If you are comfortable enough to kiss that would be great," said Alcide. Closing my eyes, I leaned in to close the distance between us, and placed a soft kiss on Eric's lips. Eric initially tensed from surprise, but then brought his other hand to my cheek and pulled my face closer and kissed me back with more intensity. After a few seconds we broke the kiss, but Eric's hands prevented me from pulling away – instead our foreheads rested against each other and Eric's hands dropped to the tops on my shoulders.

My eyes remained closed, and I drifted away to a world without cameras, museums and parties until I heard Felicia sneer, "Well, isn't this romantic."

My eyes popped open and I pushed back from Eric whipping my head toward Alcide. "Did we get it, Alcide? I think we got it, right? We're done, right?" I asked – my speech was clipped and I'm sure sounded slightly crazy. I couldn't look at Eric – his hands hovered above me where he'd held me just moments ago. I couldn't look at any of the people who unbeknownst to me had quietly reentered the studio over the last few minutes to watch the shoot. I could only look at Alcide and pray that he would say we were done.

"Thanks guys, that was really nice. Good work. You can go get changed now."

I quickly popped up from the pedestal and made a beeline for the empty dressing room. Sinking into a chair in front of the mirror, I covered my face with my hands. Gah. I can't believe I just a) laid one on Eric Northman, and b) laid one on Eric Northman in front of my colleagues including Felicia. Good lord, do I have a death wish?

I pulled my hands away, looked in the mirror and jumped to see Felicia standing behind me with a maliciously sweet look on her face. "So, how long have you been sleeping with Eric?" she asked in a honeyed voice that positively dripped with venom.

"Pardon?" I managed to get the single word out. I was completely flabbergasted by her brazen question.

"Oh, give it a rest, Sookie. We all saw it out there. Eric's got quite the reputation you know. I just didn't realize his tastes had become quite so….pedestrian." She cocked her head to the side and sniffed on that last word. She freaking sniffed.

"I suppose boys will be boys but I must say, I expected you to be a little more professional."

As her words hit my brain I could feel a red rager coming on…..my hands began to shake and my vision became unfocused. I was about to snap. Instead I struggled to tamp down my anger by biting the inside of my mouth and digging my nails into my palms to regain control and after a few seconds I stood up, turned to face Felicia and leveled my gaze into her hateful eyes.

"First of all, Felicia, _nothing _is going on between me and Eric. I barely even know him. Secondly, my relationships and what I do or _who_ I do is frankly none of your business. And thirdly, I am nothing if not professional. Clearly the same cannot be said for you. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to get changed."

I was furious and embarrassed by her accusation, although it clearly sprang from jealousy. And I was also feeling a teensy bit smug for being a bigger person which allowed me to throw in a condescending jab. I was getting awfully tired of being the bigger person though.

I was dreading rejoining the group in the studio. How could I face everybody right now? Especially if they think I'm sleeping with Eric? Shit, shit, shit! Time for a pep talk. _Get it together, Sookie. You were playing a part. __He__ was just playing a part. The museum asked you to do this as part of your job. Don't make a bigger deal out of this than it is. So you both seemed to get caught up in the moment. It meant __nothing__. It was a photo shoot and it's over now. _

I realized with a sudden rationality that surprised me that I could control this situation. If I acted like it meant nothing, they shouldn't think any more of it either. What happened during the shoot was just acting and didn't mean anything. It was an artificial kiss.

_Yeah, and I'm Meryl fucking Streep._

I sighed heavily, knowing that it hadn't been an act - at least not for me.

After quickly pulling my suit back on, I tamed the waves of my hair, threw it back into a bun and glanced into the mirror while I slid my glasses onto my nose. I was back in business mode and with a couple of deep breaths was as ready to rejoin the group as I would ever be. Grabbing my bags and coat I took a deep breath, composed my face and stepped out of the changing room and back into the studio.

Alcide and his assistant were packing up the equipment and everybody was seated at a table in the corner of the room. I made my way to an empty chair. Eric glanced up at me and gave me a quick smile. I desperately wanted to respond in kind, but knew that everybody was looking to see my reaction, so I kept my face blank and moved my eyes over to Sophie-Anne and apologized to the group for keeping them waiting.

"No need to apologize, Sookie. Thank you for stepping in like you did. I think we got some gorgeous shots. So, let's hear your thoughts on the menu."

"I've met with Jean-Luc to develop the idea of a 'feast for the gods' that is decadent but simple and straightforward at the same time. Sophisticated without being fussy. I think we've come up with some options that you will like. We would use the finest and freshest ingredients available, of course. For starters we would suggest poached shrimp, avocado slices and pomegranate seeds on a bed of arugula drizzled with a very light lemon vinaigrette. The entrée would be a rosemary and herb roasted rack of lamb with a side of fresh shelled green peas, baby artichokes and a crispy polenta cake. For dessert we think it would be interesting to forego the standard and expected chocolate dessert. We are suggesting split figs in a puddle of creamy marscapone, drizzled in truffled honey and also present shared platters of a variety of the beautiful cheeses from around the world, accompanied by sliced pears, almonds, and dried cherries paired with a dessert wine."

Sophie-Anne was quiet for a few seconds and then looked around the table with a smile. "I like the simple sophistication of the menu. It's fresh and specific to our theme without being contrived. I'd of course want to make a few tweaks, but we are on the right track. And I love the idea of the cheese platters for a gala dinner. I haven't seen that done before."

"I'm glad you like it. I was also thinking that perhaps rectangular tables would be more appropriate than round in this instance?"

"I love that idea. Lafayette, work with Sookie to retool your designs for a rectangular table and with this menu in mind. I'll look forward to seeing your prototype at next week's menu tasting. And for the tasting, of course we'll have Pamela, Sookie, Lorena, Felicia…..and Eric if you would be so kind to join us too – I always like to have a man's input on the menu." She gave him her standard smoldering smile.

"Of course, Sophie-Anne." Said Eric.

"Well then, thank you all for your time. Let's get back to work." In a fluid motion Sophie-Anne glided away from the table and was out the door in a flash with her minions close behind. I bent to gather my things and when I stood saw that Alcide had approached our table.

"Sookie, could I speak with you a moment?"

"Sure, what is it? Did everything seem to turn out okay?" I was concerned that maybe I'd have to redo something.

"Yes, yes – it all looks great." He said flashing a smile. "I was wondering if you would like to come with me to an art opening tomorrow night. A friend of mine will have a number of photos in the show and there are some other great up-and-coming artists showing in it too."

Ugh. This was the best and worst thing that could have happened right now. Best, because Felicia heard every word of that and I could accept to prove my point and worst because Eric heard every word.

But Eric hadn't asked me out. And I didn't know what the story was between him and Felicia, although I didn't think they were together. I didn't have any plans for Saturday night. And I really wanted to prove my point to the psycho bitch, so I screwed on a smile and said I'd love to go and gave Alcide my card so he could email me to make further plans.

Lafayette was waiting for me and gave me a look that was pitying and disapproving at the same time. I knew he'd have words for me as soon as we were alone. We walked to the elevator directly behind Felicia and Eric. Felicia threaded her arm through Eric's and got on the waiting elevator. It was too full for Lafayette and me to enter so we waited for the next one. The doors started to close as Felicia said, "So Eric, about that dinner party on Saturday night?" He paused for a second and his eyes glanced to mine but the doors closed before I could hear his response.


	7. Chapter 7

_Lafayette was waiting for me and gave me a look that was pitying and disapproving at the same time. I knew he'd have words for me as soon as we were alone. We walked to the elevator directly behind Felicia and Eric. Felicia threaded her arm through Eric's and got on the waiting elevator. It was too full for Lafayette and me to enter so we waited for the next one. The doors started to close as Felicia said, "So Eric, about that dinner party on Saturday night?" He paused for a second and his eyes glanced to mine but the doors closed before I could hear his response._

Lafayette and I stared at the closed elevator doors and he slowly shook his head back and forth as he said in a daze, "Oh _no_ she didn't. That is one evil, evil bitch." Then he grabbed my shoulders and turned me so I was eye to eye with him. "We need to have lunch. A liquid lunch."

"Normally I would refuse, but after this morning I am in dire need of a cocktail."

"Call the office and tell them you're going to my studio to work on some design ideas with me. There's a great little Italian joint just around the corner from my place."

"Thanks, Lafayette. I really don't want to go back to the museum today."

Minutes later we were in a cab headed toward the flower district in Chelsea.

"We're not going to talk about today until we're seated with wine in front of us, deal?" He asked.

"Fine by me."

We settle into a cozy table by the window and the waitress quickly brought us a chilled carafe of the house white and poured out two glasses. As soon as she left Lafayette drew a deep breath and said.

"Girl, I don't even know where to start. No, that's not true. I do know where to start. I know I sass a lot, but everything I'm saying to you right now is from the heart. You were _gorgeous_ today. Absolutely stunning. You're always beautiful, but you wear all this professional shit like you're trying to hide behind it or something."

"But, Lafay…"

"No Sookie, just hear me out. I know you live by a strict code of professionalism and the shoot today was not easy for you. You've certainly benefitted from your 'code' - you have an impeccable reputation and people really want to work with you. But you've reached a point in your life and career where you can afford to loosen up a little bit and it's not going to tarnish the reputation you've worked so hard to build."

"What do you mean, 'loosen up'? How?"

"Well to begin with, lose the damn bun. You're not Marian the Librarian. I could move to the suits next, but we'll just take baby steps today."

"But why the heck does it matter if my hair is in a bun or not?"

Lafayette sighed a little exasperated. "Sookie, you're a strong woman. I can list off your many attributes, but I know you don't like that. Did you see the look on everybody's face today when you came out of the dressing room? _That _was something. Stop withholding your beauty. I'm not talking about manipulating others with your sexuality, but I think you'll find you're even more powerful if you just allow yourself to be you."

I couldn't seem to manage anything more than "humph." But I heard what he said and I would think about it.

I took a sip of wine and readied myself for whatever Lafayette was going to say next.

"Secondly, we need to talk about the chemistry between you and Eric at that photo shoot today."

I took an even bigger gulp of wine and looked down at the table.

"It didn't mean anything Lafayette. We were just playing our parts for the shoot."

"That is total bullshit and you know it."

"How can it possibly mean anything, Lafayette? Even if I've developed a little crush on him, it's not like he would reciprocate."

"Oh, I saw some reciprocation. I think you took him by surprise in more ways than one today and I bet he's not quite sure what to do now that his planets have been realigned."

I scrunched up my nose, "I think he's a little out of my league - he doesn't go out with women like me."

"Don't talk to me about _leagues._ This isn't fucking baseball. Women like you? You mean women of substance who are intelligent and fun and down-to-earth?"

"I guess that's what I mean. I think his type is more like Felicia."

"Again, I'm calling bullshit. Maybe – although I doubt it – maybe, they _were _his type, but I wouldn't be so sure that's his type anymore. Actually, you were a chilly bitch to Eric when you came out of that dressing room so maybe you're becoming his type."

"Do you know she came into the dressing room while I was changing and asked me how long I'd been sleeping with Eric?"

"She didn't." he gasped

"Yep, she did." I recounted the dressing room showdown for Lafayette.

"Well, I guess that explains why you agreed to go out with Alcide on Saturday night. Out to protect your 'code'? I mean, Alcide's easy on the eyes and all, but that photo session with Eric was seriously intense. I think everybody in the room got a little hot and bothered watching it. I'm not surprised in the least bit that Alcide asked you out after watching sexy Sookie come out to play."

"Oh, God." I groaned and covered my eyes with my hand. I could feel that I'd gone instantly red. "This is so embarrassing. And there is photographic evidence of me looking like a total wanton hussy. And not only that, it's going to be published in a fucking magazine distributed to everybody I know in the city! Oh my God….think of all my former clients." I could feel the hysteria rising in me.

"Sookie…you have nothing to be embarrassed about. It was seriously hot and I can't wait to see the photos. You didn't make yourself a wanton hussy. You made yourself an 'it' girl."

"Oh, please! My Gran is probably turning over in her grave. She always told me you should only have your name in the paper twice. Once when you're born and once when you die. And I'm no _'it'_ girl. I have no desire to be an _'it'_ girl."

"No disrespect to your Gran, but she's from another generation and lived in a speck of a town in the deep South that probably didn't even have a paper. This is a whole new age and you're in New York City. Build your brand, girl. Embrace it, and get a grip on it so it's a reflection of who you really are. And don't worry about the photos from today. There was nothing inappropriate and nothing that you should be ashamed of. Just be prepared to harness the positive energy that is going to come from the shoot."

I sure didn't agree with him, but I just didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Lafayette soldiered on, "Okay, so next topic of conversation. What are we going to do about Eric?"

"_We_ aren't doing _anything_. What's there to do? Plus he's going to a dinner party with Felicia on Saturday night."

"_We_ don't actually know that, remember? And even if he does go, it won't matter. Blip on the radar. You're going out with Alcide anyway. Come Monday we'll just pretend like this weekend never even happened."

I groaned and rolled my eyes.

"Here's what we're going to do. You're going to throw away all your rubber bands and forget about ever wearing your hair in a bun again. Are we clear?"

"Fine. I'll try it. But if doesn't work for me I reserve the right to go back to the bun."

"Whatever. Next, I suggest you smile at Eric when you see him rather than looking right through him. That's easy enough, right?"

"I feel like I'm in fifth grade."

"Well, you're kind of acting like you're in fifth grade. Going out with somebody you don't like to prove something to the class bully? Really, Sook. If you like him – and I know you do - you should just be friendly to him and make yourself likeable."

I sighed heavily, my cheeks puffing out with my exhaled breath. I was exhausted and a little bit tipsy.

"I think I need to head home. Thanks for everything Lafayette – I really appreciate it."

"No problem, Sookie girl. You just do what I say and go get him. And no buns."

"Yessir, no buns." I tossed my money on the table, kissed him on the cheek, and left to jump into a waiting cab.

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Collapsing on my couch at home, I thought about my talk with Lafayette. I'd always liked him. We'd been friendly for years, but we'd never had a friendship that extended much beyond work and the occasional post-event cocktail. He'd come through for me in a big way today…my day of meltdowns…and I was really thinking about what he'd said. I stubbornly resist advice from most everyone, so that's saying something.

I took my hair out of my bun and shook it loose while I was still wearing my work clothes. I wanted to figure out how to best style it down so I felt comfortable with it bun-free at work. The waves seemed a bit unruly for the office, so I figured I'd blow it out Monday morning and tip the ends under. At least it would look a little more polished.

I would walk into the museum Monday with confidence. Word may have spread about the photo shoot, but I'd just keep my head up and be easy breezy about it and act like playing tonsil hockey with a god of a man while being photographed is all in a day's work. If I saw Felicia I'd treat her like any other person and not be drawn into her games. And Eric? I'd be friendly. And try to be likeable. I can't say that kiss meant nothing to me. But it didn't mean everything either. Frankly, if Felicia is his type, then he isn't really worth spending much energy mooning over. But for now I'll give him the benefit of the doubt that he has the ability to improve his taste.

I took a nap and slept off the afternoon wine, they headed up to volunteer and get some much-needed perspective.

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My weekend routine of volunteering, drawing class and Muddy's was just what I needed after a crazy Friday. Eric didn't come into Muddy's so I had a chance to catch Amelia up on everything.

She shook her head in disbelief and laughed, "I can't believe you're going to be in _Stila_. And I can't believe things are so crazy at the museum – my God, it's like Days of Our Lives!"

"Seriously."

"So, you've got a hot date tonight, eh?" She jigged an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't classify it as hot. Although, Alcide is kind of a fox. And I'd rather not think of it as a date either. How about, I've got plans tonight with a guy I met yesterday?"

"Ugh. You exhaust me." She walked off with an eye roll and a shake of the head.

"I exhaust myself." I muttered under my breath.

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I'd deliberated for way too long over what to wear, finally settling on a black dress that was little shorter than I was usually comfortable with, black tights, ankle boots and a fitted black leather jacket. I wore my hair down in long waves, and accessorized with some big hoop earrings and a long multi chain necklace.

We'd decided to meet at Tia Pol, a little sliver of a Spanish restaurant in Chelsea that was just a couple of blocks from the gallery. Alcide was waiting at the bar and he quickly rose and gave me a kiss on the cheek when I entered. We ordered sangria and munched on sinfully delicious fried chickpeas dusted in smoky paprika while waiting for our table.

The conversation was easy and comfortable. The hostess let us know our table was ready, and I felt a little thrill when Alcide's hand rested on the small of my back to gently guide me to our table. Alcide had been here before, so offered to order off the tapas menu for the both of us. He ordered in what sounded to me like perfectly fluent Castillian Spanish.

"I take it you've spent a lot of time in Spain – I haven't been, but it's high on my list of places to go."

"You should definitely bump it up to the top of your list. I first visited in high school as an exchange student and lived with an amazing family in Valencia. I still go back to visit them at least every other year. I've probably been to Spain around twenty times now – usually for extended periods of time."

"Wow – do you want to move there?"

"Yeah, I'd love to someday. Photography can allow a lot of flexibility, but right now my jobs are primarily based in New York. Hopefully I'll eventually be able to have my home base in Spain."

"So is most of your work fashion based?"

"Well, working in fashion builds your reputation and is more interesting artistically but it doesn't pay much. However, the better established you become in fashion, the more commercial gigs you can get and that's where the money is. One side feeds the other."

"Ah, I see. So what commercial work have you done – anything I would've seen?"

"Pantene, Estee Lauder and Pearle Vision are my three biggest clients right now."

"They advertise all the time, so I assume that's good for you. What about your own personal projects?"

"I don't have as much time to devote to my own work as I'd like, but I've been working on a series of photographs that explore emotional isolation in urban cities."

Alcide was fascinating and I found myself drawn to his enthusiasm. I shared some of my travel stories with him and talked about growing up in the South. We were hunched across the table to better hear each other over the din of the restaurant. Our kneecaps grazed under the table and neither of us shifted positions to move them apart. The amber light from the candle on the table cast just enough light so I could make out his dimple and gleaming white teeth. He had a terrific smile that lit up his entire face. Extending his arm a few inches across the table, he took my hand in his and I momentarily lost my place in the story I was telling. I was able to recover and he squeezed my hand and broadened his smile. A warmth spread through my chest – a combination of three glasses of sangria and the rush of my burgeoning attraction to Alcide.

"Should we get going to the gallery?" he suggested. I smiled and nodded my agreement and the waitress brought us the check. Despite my attempt to split the bill, Alcide insisted on treating.

We hadn't walked more than ten feet out the door into the brisk January night before Alcide caught my hand again with his. He told me a little about some of the photographers whose work would be shown and within minutes we were climbing the steps to the entrance.

"Alcide!" called a woman about 30 feet behind us on the sidewalk.

At the sound of her voice, Alcide dropped my hand like a hot potato and turned in her direction.

"Hi, Debbie." He called, descending the stairs and leaving me alone at the top. My warm fuzzy feeling was gone – squashed by fresh air and disappointment. I stepped down next to Alcide at a respectable distance and smiled at Debbie, reaching out my hand to shake hers.

"Hi, I'm Alcide's friend Sookie." I had a big dumb smile fixed to my face.

"Hi Sookie, it's nice to meet you. I'm Debbie." She smiled warmly at me and seemed completely unfazed by seeing Alcide with a woman. "Shall we go in and see if this show is worth the hype?"

We headed in together to a sea of bodies, room temperature wine in clear plastic cups and cheese cubes. Debbie immediately left us to mingle with others she knew in the crowd, and Alcide and I made our rounds – looking at the photographs and meeting his friends and colleagues along the way.

He never mentioned Debbie again during that evening, and was still very kind although a little less attentive. The spell had been broken for both of us. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that Alcide and Debbie had dated and he was still nursing feelings for her. Ah well - easy come, easy go I suppose.

After about an hour I leaned into Alcide, "I think I should be getting home. I need to get up early tomorrow and get some things done."

"Of course, I'll walk you out to catch a cab." He offered.

Fortunately it didn't take long to flag down an available cab. "Thanks so much, Alcide. I had a great evening."

"Me too. Maybe we can do this again sometime." I knew his heart wasn't in it, but that's just what you say, right?

I just smiled. "Have a good rest of the weekend." He kissed me on the cheek and I slid into the cab, giving a little wave as the door closed.

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Sleep came easily for me Sunday night and I slept soundly until my alarm clock went off the next morning. After coffee and a quick bowl of cereal I jumped in the shower. I was excited to get to work. It felt like the first day of a new job even though I'd started over a month ago.

After two minutes of blowdrying my hair dry, I considered this may be the real reason I'd started wearing my hair in a bun. My arm muscles were exhausted and I still was only half way done. Finally I finished, so I slipped into a black pencil skirt, a kind of sexy fitted Thomas Pink button down shirt with my grandfather's gold cufflinks, and black heels. After putting on a little mascara, blush and lip gloss, making sure my pearl earrings were in and my tortoiseshell glasses on I looked in the mirror. I smiled at what I saw, because I looked more confident than I had in quite some time. Throwing on my coat and grabbing my bag, I rushed out the door to catch the bus to work.

I climbed up the long set of steps to the museum while scrolling down my blackberry to read through an epic email from my friend Tara about some guy she was dating. As I climbed the stairs reading, a couple of people who have never given me the time of day shouted out a little "Hi, Sookie" to me. It put me in an even better mood and I gave the security guards at the front doors an award winning smile when I produced my id card.

Looking back down to my blackberry, I crossed the Great Hall to read the last of Tara's email and ran smack into Eric.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry Eric." I flashed him a smile and a little wave. "Have a good one," I called over my shoulder and walked to the elevator bank, not even giving him a chance to respond. I smiled to myself knowing that was the perfect first post photo shoot moment. Quick, friendly, easy-breezy.

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I pushed open the door to my office and tossed my coat on the coat tree. Only when I turned to sink into my desk chair did I register that somebody was seated silently at the conference table. Felicia.

I looked her straight in the eye and keeping my face expressionless, lowered myself into the chair. I waited for a couple of seconds before questioning in a level voice, "Do you need something, Felicia?"

She still didn't speak.

"Felicia?"

She drew a deep breath. "Sookie, I owe you an apology. Well, more than just one apology."

I remained silent, leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms and legs.

"I…" she paused shaking her head and dropped her eyes down to her hands clasped on the table. "I've been terrible to you. I've been….really…horrid."

She looked back up to me. I cocked an eyebrow but continued to remain silent. I wasn't going to make this easy on her.

"My behavior has been inexcusable." She drew a deep breath. "I can't even come up with a good reason for why I've been like this…I guess I….." she stopped and sighed.

"I feel like I've been slipping professionally, and I haven't been in a good place personally and then there's Eric and…. I'd seen you in that coffee shop near his place before and saw the way he looked at you and then, here you were – the next 'big thing' at the museum - I just……' she trailed off looking at the floor shaking her head again.

To say I was surprised by her apology would be putting it mildly. What surprised me even more was to realize that my anger and even my hurt feelings were quickly dissipating. It took a lot of courage for her to apologize to me and lay herself bare. I let her words link in a few moments before I spoke.

"Felicia, I'm not here to be the next big anything. I just want to do my job well and be a part of this institution."

She nodded in agreement. "I know. I can see that. And I know that I clearly haven't shown it, but I respect you for it. There are a lot of egos here, and I've clearly become one of them – let myself get caught up in it all. You're a refreshing change."

I paused before verbally stepping on less stable ground. "About Eric…..I'm not trying to _take_ him or whatever. He seems like a great guy, but I barely know him. What happened at that photo shoot – I …" I was searching for words, but Felicia cut me off with a wave of her hands.

With a small, sad smile she said, "He's not mine to lose." And in a softer voice, seemingly more to herself than to me, continued, "He never was mine to lose."

After a few moments of contemplative silence I spoke, "I appreciate you coming here to talk to me. I know it wasn't easy to do. I don't expect we'll be having slumber parties or anything, but I'm willing to start over with a clean slate."

"Thank you, Sookie." Tears welled in her eyes and I crossed the room and hugged her. She wiped away the tears, smoothed down her clothes, and gave me a small smile before slipping out the door.

She left me with a lot to think about, but I didn't have time to ponder our conversation because of another knock on my door. A perpetually happy guy named Otis from the mailroom entered delivering an elegant small arrangement of flowers. I thanked him and waved goodbye before opening the enclosure card. It read_ Thank you for being a part of the photo shoot yesterday. You were divine. Sophie-Anne_. I heard a light rap and looked up to see Holly and Halleigh in the doorway to my office. 'Good morning you two. Come on in.'

'Wow, your hair looks really pretty. I like it down.' said Halleigh.

'Oh, uh, thanks. I thought I'd try to mix it up a little.'

'So, we heard through the grapevine that you ended up replacing Pamela in the photo shoot Friday. Is it true?' asked Holly.

'Oh gosh. Yes, I was in the photo shoot. It totally took me offguard, I didn't walk into the studio expecting that at all. It was an interesting experience though – I'd never been on site for a shoot before much less been a part of one.'

"You know, that shoot is pretty major around here. It's really an honor to be asked to be in it.'

'Well, let's not forget I was in it as a stand-in, ladies. And who knows how the photos turned out? I've never been the most photogenic person. They'll probably need to end up cropping me out."

'So, how was it styled? What was it like?'

"We were all in white and flowy Gucci gowns and were sort of draped around furniture all goddess-like, you know? Kind of like those Vanity Fair tableau photos in their Hollywood Issue that are uber composed.'

'So you were all seated around Eric Northman? We heard he was in the shots too.'

Oh shit. Here goes. _Easy-breezy, easy-breezy._ 'No, they ended up just have a couple of shots of Eric and I together rather than Eric with the three ladies. I guess since Pamela dropped out they decided to change up the storyline behind the photos and the composition or whatever.'

'_What?_? You were in a photo shoot with _just _Eric Northman? Tell us _everything_!' Holly was practically hyperventilating.

'There's nothing to tell really, it wasn't a big deal. I mean, a little awkward to have to get up close and personal with a colleague that you don't know very well under bright lights in a room full of co-workers, but hey, we'll just chalk it up to a new experience."

"Wow." sighed Holly with a slightly wistful look on her face.

Halleigh's eyes snapped to the flowers on my desk. "Are those from Eric?'

I let out a exasperated sigh and gave the girls an eyeroll. "No. They're from Sophie-Anne to thank me for doing the shoot."

'That's pretty amazing. She doesn't usually do stuff like that."

"She's been very kind to me so far. And I think she feels bad for putting me on the spot like that Friday."

"Sophie-Anne doesn't ever feel bad about putting people on the spot. She must really like you." Said Halleigh as Holly nodded her agreement.

"I _hope_ she likes me - it would sure make my job a lot easier. Speaking of which, let me download the new developments on the event so you're up to speed." The girls followed me to the conference table and seemed much more eager and engaged than they were just last week. Surely a stupid photo shoot and a change of hairstyle isn't what earned me the sudden respect of my staff. But whatever the reason, it sure felt good.

At noon I left the office to meet up with Bill in the cafeteria for lunch.

'Hey, your hair looks great. And so does everything else.' He said as he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

'Pfffft. Thanks.' I grumbled as I rolled my eyes. These compliments were leading me to think I must have looked like a shrew for the past 32 years of my life.

We paid for our lunches and searched out an empty table on the far side of the lunch room. I felt like people were glancing up and talking about me as I passed. Did I have a button open on my shirt? I quickly glanced down and was relieved to see I was all buttoned up. Had I stepped on toilet paper? Another quick glance down at my feet confirmed that, no, I was free and clear.

Bill saw my efforts and chuckled and he slid into his chair.

"What's so funny? Do I have something on my face or a note stuck on back or something? I'm feeling a little paranoid, like people are talking about me. And I don't know these people!"

"Well, they sure know you."

"What are you talking about? Was my mugshot in the museum newsletter or on a milk carton or something?"

"First of all, you do look really nice today, Sookie. You'd be turning heads even if you weren't the hot topic of conversation because of that photo shoot last week."

"Uhhhh." I groaned. "What exactly are they saying about the photo shoot?"

"Well, apparently that photo shoot is a big deal around here. I'm just learning these things too, you know. But it's always featured the usual suspects, you know….whatever their names are. And here you come – a fresh faced young thing, who is _nice_ I might add - and not only replace one of them for the shoot, but then take a bunch of steamy mono y mono shots with the most popular girl in the museum's love interest who is apparently the 'hot ticket'."

"Oh my God. People are ridiculous! It didn't quite go down like that. I was drafted into service for the shoot, so to speak. I was just doing what they asked me to do. Jeez. It's not a big deal. They had each of us girls depicting different goddesses."

"And Eric?"

"Eric was Eros." I tried to say it as non-chalantly as I could.

"Oh, reeeally?" Bill said with a smirk on his face. "And who, pray tell, were you?"

"Well….I was Psyche."

Bill laughed so hard I thought he was going to fall off his chair. "Oh man….Oh, man." He wheezed trying to catch his breath and clutching his sides. "It's just too perfect. Those people really have a great sense of humor." Then Bill's face became deathly serious and he leaned in and asked in a low voice, "So did you reenact the pose from that statue in the Louvre?" and again raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh hush," I laughed and smacked his arm. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see, eh?" and I wiggled my eyebrows back at him.

"Sookie Stackhouse, you're sure making things more interesting here."

I rolled my eyes again. I've never rolled them so much in my life. We gathered our trays and walked back through the lunchroom to throw out our trash. I again noticed the sideways glances and whispers of people in the crowd, but this time I was surprised to realize that it didn't really bother me. Across the cafeteria I saw Eric seated with a couple of other curators from the Greek and Roman Department. Eric smiled at me and inclined his head in a nod. I smiled back and continued my way through the lunchroom.

Lafayette was right. I did feel more powerful.

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Since the press release about museum funding just went out today, nothing appeared in the papers, but I was sure we'd see something tomorrow. While skimming the gossip column I read a snarky bit in Page Six about Victor and Margot.

_**Ad Out?**_

**_Not only is billionaire Victor Madden losing his shirt after a failed deal,  
we hear his beautiful wife, Margot, has run off with her tennis instructor.  
Game, set, match!_**

Poor Victor – how humiliating. I tossed the paper in the recycling bin and slipped out of my heels and into flats. It was an unseasonably warm day so I was going to walk home through the park. I was just entering the park when I heard footfalls catching up with me, so I turned around.

"Hey, Sookie. Mind if I walk across the park with you?" asked Eric a little out of breath.

"No, that would be nice." I smiled.

We walked in silence for a bit before he spoke again, "How was the art opening on Saturday?"

"Oh, it was…interesting. There were some really beautiful photographs in the show. I didn't know that much about photography so it was a good learning experience. How was your dinner party?"

"I didn't go to a dinner party. Felicia was antagonizing me on Friday. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. She told me she was a total bitch to you in the dressing room."

'To put it mildly, yeah."

"I'm sorry about that. I don't think she'll do it again."

"No, I don't think she will either. She apologized to me this morning."

We continued walking for a while in silence. I had to ask the question that had been burning in my brain for the past month.

"So…..what is the story with you and Felicia?"

He stiffened a bit and his cheeks puffed as he blew out air. Clearly this was not ground he enjoyed covering.

"We dated almost a year ago for a month or so."

If he thought I was going to leave it at that, he was dead wrong. I was way too curious to not ask follow up questions.

"Why'd you break up? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

'Well, partially it's because I don't really know why we got together in the first place. We went to a few work-related events and I was kind of intrigued by all the hoopla for a while and she was fun to be around. But the thrill wore off and I realized we didn't have anything in common – there was no substance to our relationship, if you'd even call it a relationship."

"Then why do I still see photographs of you two together at events?"

He heaved a big sigh. "Let's just say that some people at the museum have strongly encouraged perpetuating the illusion of us as a couple."

I could feel the confusion on my face. "What? I don't follow."

"Those at the top have a real fear that the museum is losing ground - have lost touch with younger generations of donors and movers and shakers in the city….that people think of the museum as their parent's or even grandparent's museum. Younger generations are supporting sexier institutions like MoMA or the Guggenheim. The Met is the Grande Dame of New York museums, but it will slowly die without an infusion of fresh blood."

Catherine had told me just this in my initial meeting with her and Diantha.

Eric continued, "The museum's been pushing Felicia out there as the new face of the Met in New York social circles. When Felicia and I were together they were practically falling over themselves at the thought of a museum 'romance' to ramp visibility up even more."

"Eric, when you say 'they' are you talking about Catherine?"

"I'm not sure how aware or involved Catherine is in all this…..I know she's made establishing of a more youthful image a museum priority, but she's got others to carry out her directives."

"Others being…."

"Andre."

"Oh." Things were starting to fall into place. "So you went to some events with Felicia and were photographed which left Andre salivating at the prospect of the heightened press and then you broke things off with her." He nodded. "But how could he get you to go out with Felicia again?"

"Andre pulled me aside after a meeting and said there was a cocktail party he wanted me to attend with Felicia. I told him we weren't seeing each other anymore and I wouldn't go. The next morning Christos called me into his office. Andre was with him and they made it clear that I should reconsider going to the party with Felicia."

"Christos? I can't believe he went along with it."

"He feels terrible about it, but they've got Christos over a barrel. The Augustus statue shattering was a massive embarrassment and pr nightmare for the museum. It was our department's statue. Our fault."

"So you're taking one for the team."

"Something like that. I've thought about looking into jobs at other museums, but I need the support of Christos in order to land something that would be a career progression and under the current situation he can't give me that."

"What a mess. How could Felicia go along with this though?"

"She's been hopeful that I'd get back together with her – she'd become pretty unhinged over the whole thing, obviously. We had a long conversation Friday and she's finally crystal clear that we're over – that it's never going to happen. It's been a pretty unhealthy situation all around. I've decided I'm not going to do this any more and will deal with the consequences - whatever they are."

"What will they do? You can't lose your job, can you?"

"I honestly don't know what they'll do, but I know I can't keep doing this."

I shook my head. "That's one hell of a hole you fell into."

He looked at me with confusion.

"My theory is that relationships are like holes - easy to fall into, difficult to climb out of. And then you throw in a relationship with somebody you work with and somebody else manipulating you and you've got a disaster on your hands."

He laughed weakly.

I stupidly continued. "It's probably not a good idea to get involved with somebody you work with - that just gets messy." As soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth I wished I could pull them back.

A funny look crossed Eric's face. "Yeah, you're probably right about that."

We walked without talking until we reached the other side of the park.

"Thanks for sharing this with me – it helps make sense of what's been going on."

"Sure. I'll see you later Sookie."

"Bye, have a good night." And I turned down the street to my apartment, kicking myself the whole way.

_**A/N Thank you so much for reading this....and especially to those of you who have left reviews, added the story to your alert list or favorites list. It is very much appreciated!**_

_**Secondly, if you are every visiting NYC....go to Tia Pol for dinner. Order the grilled lamb skewers, patatas bravas (of course), the little blistered green peppers and the fried chickpeas. You will not be sorry!!**_


	8. Chapter 8

I laid in bed rolling everything I'd learned around in my mind. Felicia wasn't the terrible person I'd thought…..she was merely a miserable pawn. Eric was also a pawn, having been coerced into a fake relationship of sorts for the museum's purposes. Andre was behind all of this, and the President of the Met may or may not have knowledge of the situation. Oh, and I'm an idiot of epic proportions for telling Eric it wasn't a good idea to get involved with a co-worker.

I'd never encountered this level of duplicity in a work environment and wasn't comfortable with it. Could I remain at the Met, knowing this was how things operated? I could always go back to Crane Events. Under the circumstances, I didn't believe that Claudine would hold me to her two-year deal. I didn't want to leave the museum though – the job presented new challenges for me, and I really loved working in and amongst the art and absorbing everything I could.

Ultimately, I concluded that the museum was bigger than the individuals who worked there and the bad apples would eventually get tossed out. It was inspiring to see the cross section of people who walked through the doors everyday to expand their minds and appreciate something beautiful or thought provoking. I wanted to be a part of the Met and make it a stronger institution in my small way.

I eventually drifted off to sleep.

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The joint department meeting was buzzing about the press reaction to the museum cut in education programs. I'd arrived a little early and found a spot on the far side of the table. Felicia entered a minute later and asked if she could sit in the empty chair next to me.

"Of course." I gave her a little smile and scooted over a bit to give her more room to slip in. It was a small gesture, but I knew she was making an effort to repair the damage between us. We didn't have a chance to speak before Catherine came in and a silence fell over the room. She tossed a set of press clippings rather carelessly on the table and launched into her report the second she was seated.

"I'm sure you've all seen the press in today's papers. We're getting eviscerated for cutting school programs while still mounting what the press say are blockbuster exhibitions and lavish events. As you know, we can't cut back on our exhibitions due to commitments made to both lenders and sponsors years ago, and our events are actually moneymakers for us, but it's all a matter of optics and it doesn't look good to the public. We're still putting out emergency appeals so we can restore the programs, but we're finding the money just isn't there right now. Everybody's feeling the pinch of the economy – discretionary funds have dried up completely or are already committed."

I'd decided over the weekend that I would speak to Catherine about Victor after the meeting. I didn't want to show up Felicia. After everybody gave their reports, the meeting broke. I caught up with Catherine before she reached her office.

"Catherine, I have a potential donor for the education fund."

She turned to me with a bemused smile on her face. I could see instantly that she thought of me as _just_ the special events person and not somebody who could contribute meaningfully to the fundraising activities. She underestimated me. "Oh really? Who's that?"

I wasn't giving it up that easy. Not even to Catherine. "Could we speak in your office about this?"

An annoyed look flashed over her face and she looked down at her watch. "I have a another meeting now. Why don't you come up a few minutes before noon. We can talk briefly before I go to lunch."

"Great, I'll see you then." I smiled and headed back to my office.

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At ten to noon I gently knocked on the door to Catherine's office. I could hear voices inside, but she called to me to enter. Andre was seated in one of the chairs facing her desk. A chill of disgust crept down my back. I fervently hoped he would leave, but he didn't budge as Catherine indicated I sit in the other chair across from her desk.

"Sookie has a lead on a donor for the education fund." Catherine told Andre in a mildly patronizing tone.

"Oh really? Who would that be, Ms. Stackhouse?" Andre chimed in.

If it weren't for the thought of those school kids, and the fact that I wanted to keep my job, I would have told them to stick it where the sun don't shine and left. But I let their condescension roll off me, lifted my chin up, and said in as confident a voice as I could muster, "Victor Madden."

"Victor Madden?" laughed Catherine skeptically. "Sookie, I hate to tell you this, but we've been trying to get a meeting with Madden for years. He won't even return _my _calls."

"I can't guarantee that he'll fund it, but he will take a meeting with you. I've spoken with him about it already."

I now had their undivided attention and I loved it. Andre shifted in his chair so he was angled towards me, and Catherine leaned forward with a slightly hungry look in her eyes.

"What do we need to do?" she asked.

I had her, and I was going to have fun with this. "I'll speak with Victor about a time, but I think he would respond very well to an intimate dinner at the Director's apartment."

The museum's Director, Felipe de Castro, lived in a beautifully appointed apartment on Fifth Avenue owned by the museum. It was used on museum business only for entertaining the most important donors and museum guests like visiting heads of state. I managed to keep my face composed, but the look on Catherine's face was priceless.

She drew in a sharp breath and I noticed her eye twitch ever so slightly. "Alright, we can arrange that. Who should be there?"

"I think both you and Felipe should be there. And the Director of Education."

She blinked a couple of times. "Should Andre be there too?"

I looked over at him and smiled sweetly, albeit insincerely, before looking back at her. "Oh no. I don't think that would be necessary."

"Very well. If you'll ask Victor for a couple of evenings he would be available we will get this set up. The sooner we can do this the better, obviously."

"Of course. I'll call him as soon as I'm back in my office." I left her office, and was sure I looked like the cat who ate the canary, grinning all the way back to my desk.

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Victor's schedule necessitated a Monday night dinner. Catherine had to practically move heaven and earth to move rearrange Felipe's travel schedule, but she managed to pull it off.

I was crossing the Great Hall to make my way to the cafeteria on Wednesday when Felicia caught up with me.

"Hi," She said falling in step with me. "Catherine told me you've lined up a meeting with Victor Madden to potentially fund the school programs. I'm impressed. I hope it works out. Losing the funding has absolutely gutted me."

I gave her a genuine smile back. "I hope it works out too. Victor's very generous and is especially supportive of educational initiatives."

"I respect that. So many donors are just about the ego – only are in it to get their name on the wall."

"Don't get me wrong," I laughed, "Victor's got a healthy ego, but he's genuinely passionate about the causes he supports. It's refreshing."

We picked out and purchased our lunches together, but were both heading back to eat in our respective offices.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow for lunch?" Felicia said.

I know I had a blank look on my face momentarily before remembering, "Oh, that's right – the tasting! How could I forget? Why don't we meet in the Great Hall at 1:30 and we can all go over together?"

"Sounds great. I'll see you then." She smiled brightly.

I was shocked to realize it had only been three days since she had apologized to me. We had come a long, long way in that short time. It made my work life infinitely better and I found that I genuinely liked her.

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I made my way to the main doors at 1:30 and found Felicia, Lorena and Eric waiting for me. We squeezed into a cab for the quick 10 minute ride to Jean-Luc's test kitchen on 73rd Street close to the East River. Eric sat in the front seat and I suffered the indignity of riding the hump in the back since I was shorter than Lorena and Felicia.

The kitchen was located in a brownstone that had been converted to accommodate Jean-Luc's catering operation. The tasting was set up in a room that could accommodate seated dinners for fifty and had floor to ceiling windows that opened up onto a beautifully landscaped terrace.

Lafayette had arrived much earlier to set up the table with his proposed décor design. He took a look at me with my hair down and gave me a little smile and a nod. "Much better," he said. "And we've got some catching up to do, I think?" he raised his eyebrows questioningly. Of course he wanted the low down on my date with Alcide.

"Later." I said, giving him a meaningful look. "Right now let's see what you've done."

He pulled me across the room to the set dinner table. I looked it over and smiled my approval at him - it was exactly what I'd imagined. The cloths were made of a crinkled matte taffeta in a sage green color and perfectly set off the low-footed, burnished gold containers that spilled over with full blooms of creams, whites and just a hint of peach. Lafayette used massive roses, double flowered camellias, white narcissus, ranunculus and anemones interspersed with seeded eucalyptus leaves. The centerpieces were loosely arranged and very sensuous.

The rectangular table was set with seven place settings – three on each side and one at the head of the table so Jean-Luc could preside over the tasting. Lafayette had managed to fashion a thick garland of flexible leafy olive branches with immature green olives still attached. The garland snaked down the length of the table which held two of the flower arrangements and was dotted with votive candles. The overall effect was lovely.

I could sense that Sophie-Anne was approaching because Jean-Luc's staff became increasingly frenzied with last minute preparations for the tasting. It was like watching animals before an impending natural disaster. They'd worked with her on many a dinner, and having experienced her wrath firsthand were clearly determined to avoid any episodes today.

The double doors to the dining room were flung open by a waiter who had a flair for the dramatic. Sophie-Anne entered with Pamela trailing close behind. She was, of course, immaculately dressed in a tight black leather knee length skirt, black stilettos and a chic cream-colored cowl neck sweater. As always, not a hair was out of place and her blood red lips and nails added to her glamour.

Jean-Luc rushed to greet her and gave her three air kisses. While they exchanged pleasantries in French, a waiter approached with a tray of champagne. Once Sophie-Anne was served he circulated to the rest of us. Passing booze early on in a tasting was one of the oldest catering tricks in the book – loosening the client up so they would be less likely to notice any mistakes.

Sophie-Anne made her way across the room to me and Lafayette. She had just opened her mouth to say something when the table beyond caught her eye and she froze. Her face went cold and hard and she over enunciated practically spitting out her t's. "What is that?"

I could sense Lafayette dying a little beside me, so I smiled and said, "Isn't it beautiful?" As intimidating as Sophie-Anne was, I thought Lafayette's table was spot on and I didn't want to back away from my support of him or his design.

"I can't see anything but the green tablecloth. No green tablecloths. Green is an awful color for _everybody_. Light bounces off the green tablecloths and makes everybody's skin look dreadful. Like they've eaten a batch of bad oysters."

Okay, okay, got it. No green. Jeez.

From out of nowhere, Lafayette produced two additional cloths of the same crinkled taffeta – one in an antique gold color and the other in a powdery blue grey.

"Blue." She said simply.

The waiters and Lafayette, in one of the most stunning displays of speed I've ever witnessed, removed every item from the table, changed out the linen and replaced the items in record time.

"Oh!" said Sophie-Anne, delightedly clasping her hands together. "Look at the exquisite table. I simply adore what you've done, Lafayette." As if she were seeing it for the first time. She was definitely a little crazy, but there was no denying that she had a great eye. The blue _was_ even nicer than the green.

Lafayette and I both sighed a breath of relief. He then produced sketches of large 'columns' he would create of the olive branches and the flowers to flank the stage and also in the Great Hall to create a dramatic focal point.

After running a critical eye over the sketches she said, "Gorgeous. Gorgeous. Yes, – that will do just fine. But I want these four columns in the Great Hall bigger. Let's also have a series of smaller columns running the length of the red carpet for press photos."

With the décor agreed upon, Lafayette excused himself and the rest of us settled around the table. Jean-Luc sat at the head of the table, and Sophie-Anne and I were on either side of him. Eric was to my right and Felicia on his other side. Pamela sat next to Sophie-Anne furiously scribbling notes throughout the entire tasting, and Lorena was next to her.

The tasting ran shockingly smooth since Sophie-Anne had already agreed upon the basic menu. Every course was expertly prepared and beautifully plated. The only changes Sophie-Anne made were to the sides: adding porcini mushrooms to the polenta cake, replacing the shelled peas with julienned yellow and green squash, and grilling rather than sautéeing the baby artichokes.

It was a surprisingly fun afternoon. Everybody loosened up a little over the wine and food, and Sophie-Anne was regaling us with hilarious stories of wardrobe malfunctions from the myriad Fashion Weeks she had attended.

After nearly three hours we were done. I had no intention of going back to work since it was almost five, so Eric and I shared a cab back over to the Upper West Side.

"So, what did you think of your first tasting?" I asked.

"Not bad at all. If that's what a job in special events entails, sign me up."

"It's a good thing you were there to give Sophie-Anne a man's approval for each course." I joked

"Yeah, my finely tuned palate was in high demand today." He replied in a laughingly sarcastic tone.

"I guess you're more than just a pretty face with an art history degree."

"Oh, much, much more. I'm a pretty face with a Ph.D." he smiled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I call you Dr. Northman?" I teased.

"Only if you're wanting to play doctor." He added a raised eyebrow to the smile that was still on his face.

I just laughed and told the driver to pull over at the next corner. Paying the fare, we got out of the cab and saying our goodbyes, headed our separate ways.

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Friday – _finally_. It had been a long week and I was just a few short hours away from some weekend downtime… away from the politics of the museum. I'd arrived at the museum around a little after eight, and was just crossing the Great Hall when I felt my phone buzzing. Pulling it out of my pocket, I saw it was Claudine calling.

"Hey, Claudine! What's up?"

She was practically breathless with excitement. "Have you seen the blind item in Page Six today?"

"Uh, no – why? Is it somebody we know? Victor?"

"No! It's about employees at the Met! You should be able to easily figure it out, right?"

I was just stepping on the empty elevator when she continued, "Here, I'll read it to you – _The claws are out at the Met. Which hunky curator has inspired a good old fashioned girl fight in the halls of this hallowed institution?_ _The cur –_"

The signal dropped before I could hear the rest, although I had a terrible hunch where it was going. I stood in stunned silence, my cell still pressed against my ear until the elevator dinged indicating that I'd arrived on the fourth floor. Bolting down the hallway to the special events office, I burst in the door, grateful for once that my staff never arrived until nine on the nose. Grabbing the_ New York Post_ from our daily stack of papers, I rushed to my desk and without taking my coat off, fought with shaking hands to flip back the pages to the Page Six column.

**_The Claws Are Out At The Met_**

**_Which hunky curator has inspired a good old-fashioned girl fight in the halls of the hallowed institution? The curator in question has been squiring the beautiful public face of the Met around town for some time now – but he's also having a secret romp with a sexy new hire and the fur is now flying. We'll keep an eye on the steamy __events__ as they unfold. _**

I felt like I'd been sucker punched in the gut. My phone buzzed again. Claudine.

"What happened? I lost you there. Anyway, it goes on to say…."

I cut her off. "I just read it."

"So…..who is it?

I just didn't have it in me talk about it and needed to process this first. "Uh - I'm not sure. Listen, I've got to run – can I talk to you later?"

"Sure. Call me. Bye!"

I knew I needed to talk to Eric and Felicia as soon as possible, so I shot off an email to the two of them.

_To: Felicia Caldwell; Eric Northman  
From: Sookie Stackhouse  
Subject: Urgent!!!_

_Felicia and Eric,_

_We have a situation. Please come to my office a.s.a.p. We need to discuss._

_Sookie_

Luckily they were both already in and emailed back that they'd come to my office immediately. I finally took off my coat, then sat at the conference table to wait for them, my leg bounced with nervous energy. Felicia was the first to arrive and she gave my door a quick rap before entering.

"Hi Sookie." She said smiling. "What's this 'situation'?"

Wordlessly I pushed the paper across the conference table toward her and pointed at the column. As her eyes read the words, her smile disappeared and the color drained from her face. She looked back up to me – a mix of anger and sadness on her face.

"Great. My humiliation is complete." She said coolly.

No – I thought to myself, sadly – it will be complete when the issue of _Stila _with the photo spread hits the stands. But I sure as hell wasn't going to say that out loud. This wasn't good for any of us, but it seemed Felicia would get the worst of it – painted as the spurned and jealous loser.

Eric strode in the room and I got up to close the door behind him and leaned against the edge of my desk.

Felicia passed the paper to him in stony silence.

He read the piece and quickly understood. "Fucking Andre." He spat out, slamming the paper on the table. He began pacing the room, he brow furrowed in deep thought.

Coming to a stop, he gave me a regretful look. "Sookie, I'm sorry you got dragged into this." He pushed his palm up his creased forehead until it crowned his head and came to rest on the nape of his neck. Shaking his head he continued, "I can't believe he's done this. I never thought he would retaliate like this…..that he would stoop so low."

Since I was a gossip column connoisseur, I thought my play-by-play analysis might be helpful. "This isn't a typical blind item. First of all, it's clearly not true. Secondly, I agree with Eric that this was planted by Andre – this isn't something that Page Six dug up. They probably ran it as a favor to Andre because frankly, it's just not that interesting. I mean, _really_, who are we in the grand scheme of things – nobody knows or cares who _I _am. People who read this _may_ know Felicia, and a small portion of those people _might_ know who Eric is – right? I think Andre was trying to get as much mileage out of _this_, " I waved my hands at Eric and Felicia to indicate their coupling, "as he could. Of course, there is a implied threat that there will be further press, but we can worry about that later."

Felicia and Eric had both turned to me. I'd apparently made myself captain of this situation with my oh-so-impressive command of all things gossip column related, and I got the sense they were waiting to next hear my brilliantly strategic plan. I didn't have much, but offered up what my instincts told me. "I want to think about it more, but in the meantime our best course of action is to ignore it. Probably the only people who really are curious about the specifics are the people who work in the museum, so let's just keep things between us friendly – cordial. If anybody asks, just nonchalantly shrug it off. I think it should pass quickly." They nodded obediently in agreement. Truthfully, I was concerned about what Andre's next move would be, but I didn't want to bring that up now.

"I think you should both go before my staff gets here or others see you leaving – let's let the rumor mill grind to a halt as fast as possible."

Felicia quickly shot out of her chair and was gone.

Eric lingered for a few seconds after her departure. His overall mood seemed to have lighten over the course of our meeting. "I think you're right. This will blow over soon. I just hate to see your reputation called into question." He stood and was about to walk out the door, but turned around with a smirk on his face.

"You know, the real shame of it all is having to do the time without the pleasure of committing the crime, don't you think?" He winked and was out the door so fast he didn't see my jaw drop.

_Yes, indeed. That was a shame._

After my heart restarted, I scrambled to shove the newspaper in the far back reaches of my desk drawer and settle into my desk in an attempt to look as natural as possible in anticipation of Holly, Halleigh and Lucy's arrival.

Moments later I called out a hello when I heard them enter. I pretended to be intently working at my computer, but I was deep in thought as to how to best counter Andre. I didn't think he would stop with this, but I couldn't see a single move that any of the three of us could make to improve the situation. Despite my verbal diarrhea earlier this week, I _did _want to pursue something with Eric. Boy, did I ever. But this situation would need to be cleaned up first.

A sudden inspiration dawned on me. If it worked out, it would be a game changer for sure, but I was conflicted. It would be as manipulative as anything Andre has done. And it once again made Felicia a pawn. But I was hoping to spare her further humiliation, or at least that's how I justified my actions.

I didn't deliberate for long before picking up the phone. Cradling the receiver between my ear and shoulder, I dialed Catherine's extension and nervously chewed on my thumb until her assistant put me through.

"This is Catherine." She was all business.

"Good morning, Catherine. It's Sookie. I've been thinking further about Monday's dinner with Victor. I think it would be wise to include Felicia. She's connected to a number of people in the city government that Victor knows and it would probably be helpful." I knew before asking that Catherine would go along with it - she was completely following my lead on the pursuit of Victor. My nerves were a mess because I knew I was on morally shaky ground.

She hesitated momentarily. "Fine – if you think that's best, I'll tell Felicia to put it on her calendar."

"Thanks."

She hung up without another word.

_**A/N Thank you, thank you for your reviews. They sure make this process more fun!**_


	9. Chapter 9

After Catherine agreed to include Felicia at the dinner with Victor, I attempted to get some work done. I was setting up meetings with all the event vendors that the Met used on a regular basis to renegotiate terms that were financially more favorable for the museum. I sensed somebody in the doorway and looked up to see Holly timidly looking in, her hand hovering as though she was undecided as to whether or not to knock.

"Hi Holly, come in. What is it?"

She dragged a chair from the conference table to the front of my desk. Nervously she began to speak, "It's probably not my place to say anything, but I just, um…..well, have you read Page Six today?"

I laughed and waved my hand. "Oh my God, yes! Can you believe it? Where do they come up with this garbage?"

"Yeah, I know, it's ridiculous." She laughed a little uncomfortably. "But, I mean…it kind of seems like it might be about you and Eric and Felicia?" She stated questioningly with an apologetic look on her face

Again, I laughed it off. "I guess I can see how you might think that, but I assure you it's not true. In fact, Felicia and I are having lunch today. You know those blind items are all fabricated to increase readership, right?"

"Oh."

"Was their anything else?"

"No. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Everything's fine. Thanks for checking." I flashed her a megawatt smile and immediately turned to my computer to zip an email off to Felicia telling her we'd be having lunch together in the cafeteria.

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On the elevator down, Felicia said, "This is a good idea. If nothing else we can show everybody that we're friends."

"Exactly."

We ignored the whispers and looks our appearance together elicited as we searched out a highly visible table in the middle of the room. Once settled at our table, Felicia asked me to prep her for the meeting with Victor.

"Victor is pals with the Mayor and also has some connections to City Council, so I think you'll naturally have some talking points. Make sure it's a soft sell; either he'll do it or he won't and if the dinner is all business it will turn him off. If would be great if you can try to keep the evening entertaining and interesting for him. I'm sure that Catherine and the others will throw out numbers and statistics about the school programs. Of course numbers are important to Victor, but I think he'd be more interested in anecdotal stories of the kids experiencing art."

She nodded in agreement. "Anything I should avoid talking about?"

"Well, I wouldn't mention his soon-to-be ex-wife. Or tennis."

We both laughed and spent the rest of lunch chatting about Sophie-Anne and the upcoming weekend.

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Muddy's was packed Saturday morning. My usual table was occupied and the only one open was near the front. I parked myself at the table begrudgingly and pulled out my usual crossword, but decided to read a bit of my book first. I hadn't read more than a couple pages when a deep voice asked, "May I sit with you? I don't want to interrupt your Saturday routine, but everything else is taken."

I tore my eyes away from my book to look up. "Hi, Eric. Of course." I smiled and shuffled my stuff so I was only taking up half the table. He tossed his crossword on the table and eased into the chair that seemed too small for his large frame.

"Have you gotten into the crossword yet?' He asked indicating the paper on top of my things.

"Not yet, I thought I'd read a little first." I waved my dog-eared book.

"Ah, _Tender Is The Night_. That's a good one."

"Yeah. I'm rereading it. Again."

"I just finished up _A Moveable Feas_t – I think it was my fourth time to read it."

"Ah. So I take it you're a Hemingway fan?"

"Of course….who isn't? But I'm interested by the Lost Generation in general."

A big smile crossed my face. "Really? Me too. Have you read Stein's _An Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas_?"

"Sure." He smiled back.

"I find the idea of this cohort of artists and writers and musicians so fascinating. The thought of Picasso, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Dos Passos to name a few, all living in Paris, spending time together, bouncing ideas off each other, influencing each other in their respective art forms." I realized in my excitement I'd begun gesturing wildly with my hands.

He laughed at my enthusiasm. "Have you read _Papa Hemingway_ by A.E. Hotchner?"

I shook my head and furrowed my brow. "No. I've never heard of Hotchner."

"He was considerably younger than Hemingway, but befriended him on a writing assignment. He spent several years tagging along with him through Paris, Spain, and Cuba. _Papa_ is his first hand account of that time with Hemingway – a good peek into that world. I think you'd really like it."

"Well, then I'll definitely check it out."

Amelia came over to take Eric's order and gave me a look that told me she planned to talk to me later.

I breezed through the obligatory introduction, "Amelia, this is Eric. Eric, Amelia."

"Nice to actually meet you after seeing you in here for the last two years." Amelia said.

"Likewise."

He placed his order with Amelia and she hustled behind the bar to get it. As per her usual routine, she sat down when she brought Eric's coffee back.

"So, how's the play going?" I asked her.

"Right now it's a disaster, but I usually think that during rehearsals. I'm sure it will all come together in the end. Don't forget we open in three weeks and you promised to round up people to come."

I laughed. "Of course I will – I always do."

"You should come too, Eric." Amelia said. I kicked her under the table.

"If Sookie invites me I'll be there."

Amelia gave me a smug look.

"Well, consider yourself invited. Lafayette's already in and I thought I'd invite Bill Compton too." I said.

"Good!" Enthused Amelia. "Well, keep thinking of more people to bring. I need an audience."

"Yeah, I've noticed." I joked. She smacked me on the arm and took off.

"So when it this?" Eric asked.

"Last week of February. On Saturday night. Sorry you got put on the spot like that – you don't have to go." I offered apologetically.

"No, it sounds like fun. Count me in." He grinned and picked up his pen to start on the crossword.

I turned back to my book and made a huge mental note to thank Amelia for meddling.

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When I arrived in my office on Monday morning, I found a book sitting squarely in the middle of my desk. Puzzled, I picked it up. _Papa Hemingway_. I smiled and ran my hand along the well-worn spine of the book. A piece of paper that had been tucked inside fluttered to my desk.

_Sookie,  
I realized it's out of print so I'm lending you my copy.  
Enjoy,  
Eric_

A happy sigh escaped my lungs at his thoughtfulness. Man, I dig him. Stashing the book inside my bag I turned on my computer and prepared for the week.

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I was anxious all day for Victor's dinner. I'd worked with Jean-Luc to pull together a menu tailored to Victor's tastes and had asked Lafayette to make a special centerpiece for the Director's formal dining room table. I arrived at the Director's apartment an hour early to make sure everything was in place and to introduce myself to his staff. To call it an apartment didn't seem quite accurate. It was spacious, and opulently tasteful. Every surface gleamed and it was furnished with gorgeous antiques, thick oriental rugs and hung throughout with recognizable paintings. Classical music, which I quickly recognized to be Vivaldi, was faintly piped in over the sound system.

The plan was for me to stick around until Victor arrived, make brief introductions, and then leave them to their business. It was my first time to meet the Director and I was a little nervous. He was an intimidating man, very elegant and rumored to have been descended from Spanish nobility.

I waited in the library for their arrival. The walls of the room were lined with rare books, and hung with a few paintings. I recognized a Gilbert Stuart portrait of George Washington and a Childe Hassam flag painting. I imagined that all the well-placed objects in the room were pedigreed and priceless as well. A cozy fire burned in the fireplace around which were gathered a tufted couch and matching club chairs in rich cordovan leather. A waiter was on hand ready to serve drinks. The door creaked open, and Catherine entered followed by the Director and the Director of Education, Nicholas Franks.

Catherine introduced me to the Director. "Felipe, this is Sookie Stackhouse. Sookie replaced Diantha as Director of Special Events and set up this introduction with Victor Madden."

Felipe looked down his patrician nose, inspecting me with an appraising eye. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Stackhouse. I hope this dinner is worth all the trouble."

I trembled a little as I shook his hand from sheer nerves. "It's so nice to meet you, Mr. de Castro. I'm sorry this has been such an inconvenience for you. I certainly hope this dinner will be worth your while."

Felicia entered seconds later. It was a relief to see a friendly face. She looked fantastic in a simple dove grey cocktail dress and a strand of Tahitian black pearls. I heard the deep mellow tone of the doorbell and shortly after Victor was ushered into the room by the housekeeper.

"Sookie." Victor said affectionately. Crossing the room he clasped my two hands in his and kissed me on both cheeks.

I flipped through my mental store of Emily Post etiquette in order to properly introduce Felipe, Catherine and Nicholas to Victor. Lastly I introduced Felicia and briefly explained her position at the Met and a little about her work with the City Council. It only lasted a split second, but I saw a look flash across Victor's face and I knew Phase One of my plan was set in motion. The rest would have to just happen organically.

I stayed to chat a few minutes longer before excusing myself. As I was closing the door to the library I heard Victor say, "Let's cut to the chase so we can enjoy the evening, shall we? Sookie's already sold me on funding this program, just tell me what it's going to cost me."

A smile spread over my face and I left for home.

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At Tuesday's staff meeting Catherine was all smiles.

"I'm very happy to let you know that we have secured a donor to fund the education programs."

Applause broke out through the room. When it died down Catherine continued, "Thanks to an introduction from Sookie, Victor Madden has generously pledged two million dollars on behalf of The Madden Company and directed it toward the program."

All eyes swung to me at Catherine's announcement and I nearly choked when I heard he'd pledged two million. I reddened at the attention, but mercifully the focus soon shifted as the meeting continued.

After the meeting, Felicia followed me down to my office. "Well done, Sookie. You landed a very important major gift - and you're not even in the development department! I'm glad Catherine gave you credit for it in the meeting."

I was a little embarrassed by her praise so just muttered a quick thanks and kept walking.

"Listen, Sookie. I wanted to ask you…well, uh….Victor invited me to a benefit on Thursday night and I wanted to make sure it was copacetic with you."

I could feel my face light up. "Felicia, that's great! Of course I'm fine with it, why wouldn't it be? Victor's a really good man. I'm sure you'll have a nice time."

"Thanks. I'm really looking forward to it." Her face was glowing with excitement and she gave me a quick hug before heading back down the hallway to her office.

Phase 2 of my plan was complete. Now I'd sit back and wait for Phase 3.

I called Victor when I got back to my desk. "Victor, I heard the great news! Thank you for deciding to fund the programs."

"I should be thanking you for pushing me to do this. You've never lead me astray and I think this will be a really good association. Press releases should be going out soon from the Met. I'll be relieved to get some positive play in the papers."

"I'm glad to hear that. Let me know if there's anything further I can do to be helpful."

"Thanks, Sookie. Now, on a personal note, I've invited Felicia to go to the Cosby Foundation Dinner with me this week."

"Oh really?" I feigned ignorance. I'm imagined Felicia wouldn't want Victor to know she'd already told me about it. "Well, I'm sure you'll have a good time. I haven't known Felicia for long but she seems intelligent and interesting."

I sincerely hoped that the nice side I'd seen of her this week was the 'real' Felicia. Otherwise I'd potentially done Victor a great disservice. But he was a grown man. He could make his own decisions. Too bad he'd made four bad ones already.

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"So…..my friend Amelia is in a play the last week of February. It's Off-Off Broadway. You know, a freaky-deaky downtown thing. But I'm getting together some people to go. Do you wanna come?" I asked hopefully as I picked through my salad.

A mischievous look crossed Bill's face. "I love being a good audience member for questionable theater. Chip's going to be in town from LA that weekend. Can I bring him too?"

"Sure Chip can come. I'd love to meet your partner – the more the merrier! My friend who's doing the décor for the Party of the Year is coming and Eric Northman is coming too."

"Eric? Hmm….really? So was that Page Six mention legit?" His face held a skeptical look. I loved him for not asking me earlier, or for assuming it was true.

I sighed and could feel my cheeks burn. "No, that column was a big bogus fakakta mess. Between you and me, it _was_ about Eric, Felicia and me, but no, it's not true. Eric and Felicia are _not_ an item, and Eric and I are not having a _romp_."

He gave me a crooked grin and we gathered our trays to leave. "Too bad. About the non-existent romp, I mean."

I shot him a look and we left.

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That weekend I skipped Muddy's on Saturday to meet Claudine and Jonathan for brunch downtown at Pastis instead. I was halfway through my omelet and happily sipping on a Bloody Mary, when Claudine piped up "Oh, I can't believe I forgot to mention it….Victor apparently took a date to the Cosby Foundation benefit this week!"

I smiled. I love it when a plan comes together. "I assume you're talking about a tall blonde? Well, I guess they've always been tall blondes." I laughed at myself. "Anyway, he was taking Felicia Caldwell – she works at the Met."

Claudine leveled a look at me and narrowed her eyes. "Sookie." She said sternly. "Have you been meddling?"

"Not really." I said as innocently as possible. "I'd set up a meeting between Victor, Felipe and Catherine and included Felicia too. I can't say it didn't cross my mind that they _might_ hit it off, but it all happened independently of me."

"Well, let's hope Victor figures out that dating somebody doesn't mean marrying them." Claudine said. She was still looking at me suspiciously.

"Do you think their picture will be in the Times' Style Section?" I shot for as offhanded a tone as I could manage.

"Oh yeah. Victor Madden stepping out with a new glamazon? It will be splashed all over the Style Section tomorrow. And Page Six. And Cindy Adams. And Liz Smith. And the New York Social Diary."

I nodded my head with a downturned smile, contemplating the soon-to-be accomplishment. Phase 3? Check.

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The sun streamed in my bedroom Sunday morning. It was my one day to sleep in, so I fought the sun, pulling my comforter over my head and burrowing into my pillows in search of darkness. But the heavy thud of the Sunday sized version of the New York Times hitting my doormat launched me out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning.

Tearing the door open, I scooped up the paper and went directly for the Style Section. The remainder of the paper lay in a disheveled heap at my feet. I easily found exactly what I was looking for. Victor, with Felicia firmly planted by his side, were prominently featured in _five_ out of the twenty photos that highlighted the notable attendees of the weeks biggest charity events. I'd never seen anybody have so many photos – not even Brooke Astor. I looked closer at the photos to scrutinize their faces. It looked like a major case of puppy love.

Damn, I'm good. Feeling supremely self-satisfied, I pulled on my clothes to take a quick jog around the reservoir and set the coffee to brew so it would be ready when I returned.

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I was anxious to get into the office Monday morning and read the various papers to see what mentions were made of Victor and Felicia. Rounding the door into my office at top speed, I jumped when I once again found somebody waiting for me at my conference table.

"Good morning, Ms. Stackhouse. I'm sorry to startle you." Andre's insincere words oozed from his lips.

"Hello, Andre. What can I do for you?" I asked as coldly as I could without crossing too far over the line. I sat primly in a chair on the opposite side of the table from him.

He slowly slid a copy of the Style Section opened to the benefit photos across the table in my direction, his eyes intently drilling into me.

"Well played, Ms. Stackhouse. I must say I admire your long game."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." I smiled tightly.

"Of course not." He smile mirrored the insincerity of mine. Andre's elbows were resting on the table and his fingertips were steepled in front of his chest, expanding and contracting like a bellows as he spoke. "As you know, there's no better way to manage a p.r. crisis than to redirect the focus to another story. This certainly will help cover Felicia in light of the Page Six hints at your indiscretions with Mr. Northman, but I have an idea that might help you.'

I sucked in a deep breath as discreetly as I could and braced myself for what he was going to say next.

"The New York Time would like to feature you in the "_A Night Out With…"_ column in the Style Section. As you surely know, each week they follow a notable figure in the city around to see what they do on a Saturday night. This will be wonderful exposure for the museum and it will run to coincide with the _Stila_ issue hitting the stands in March. This will be the best way to prevent any further gossip coverage of you and Mr. Northman finding it's way to the papers."

If it weren't for the implied threat, I would laugh at how ridiculous this was. My nights out were few and far between. And they were about as press-worthy as a bowl of oatmeal. I didn't think Andre had much ammunition to work with, but he clearly had no qualms about manufacturing a story and that wasn't a chance I was willing to take. Lafayette's words after the photo shoot came back to me. I could either let this new situation control me or I could grab the reins and turn it into something good potentially.

"First of all, Andre, you know as well as I do that there is no story - that there have been no 'indiscretions' between me and Eric." He raised his eyebrow and cocked his head a bit to the side as I continued. "I will do the _Night Out_ piece, but only on one condition."

"And what would that be?"

"That it's a Friday night."

He smiled in a smugly satisfied way. "That shouldn't be a problem. The reporter should be in contact with you over the next couple of days. I'm glad to see that you're not being stubborn about doing this."

"Are we finished here, Andre?"

"Yes." He rose from his chair and sweeping the paper up was out the door in a fluid motion.

_**A/N Thanks so much for hanging in with this story. **_

_**I hope you like it....thanks especially for those of you who tell me you do by reviewing!!**_


	10. Chapter 10

I was trying to check as much off my to-do list as possible before the 11 a.m. Party of the Year meeting, so was slightly irritated when my phone rang, pulling me away from the task at hand.

"This is Sookie Stackhouse," I answered rather sharply.

"Sookie, this is Wendy Walker from the New York Times," returned a fast-talking voice through the earpiece.

"Oh – hi, Wendy. Andre mentioned somebody would be calling."

"Yep, here I am. So, we're talking this Saturday, right?"

"Uh, well, when I agreed to this Andre said I could be followed on a Friday night."

"Whatever. That works for me. What are we going to do?"

"Well, I have a standing volunteer job on Friday nights at a temporary home for foster kids – I'd like you to visit with me."

"Ahh, okay. But that's not what we usually do."

"I know, but this is my condition for doing the piece. I don't want you to make me out as some Mother Teresa, I'd just like you to shine a light on the kids in the foster care system. You know, raise a little awareness."

The line was silent for a few seconds as she was contemplating my request.

"Hmm, okay. I think I can make it work, but we need to schedule something social afterward. Like dinner with friends of yours?"

"Oh, I was counting on that. I was thinking my friends Amelia Broadway and Lafayette Reynolds would join me for dinner."

"Lafayette Reynolds the designer?"

"Yes. And Amelia is an actor with a play opening the end of February."

She groaned a little at the mention of an actor, "Aren't they all? Well, that sounds good. I'll call you on Thursday to confirm and work out details."

"Okay, talk to you then." I hung up the phone and collected my things so I could make sure to be at the event meeting plenty early.

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I wasn't the only one with the idea to arrive early – nearly the entire cast of characters was already assembled in the conference room. I said my hellos to people as I made my way across the room to Quinn. It was his first Party of the Year meeting so I wanted to make him feel comfortable.

"Hi, Quinn," I smiled warmly. After breaking up we'd managed to maintain a nice relationship. In fact, I _had_ to make sure we stayed friendly since we worked together so frequently. It was a small industry after all.

"Hey - there you are, Sookie," he said leaning in for a hug.

I would have preferred not to hug him in this environment, but rather than making a big deal, I quickly reciprocated before moving back into my own space. Quinn had never had qualms about being touchy feely in public and it had always bugged me.

Sitting in the chair next to him, I explained to him the concerns Eric had about the placement of speaker stacks in the Greek and Roman Court as well as the decibel levels. "If the timing is alright for Eric, the curator, would you be able to do a quick pass of the space after this meeting?"

"Sure, I've got time. It would be helpful to have an electrician from the Met there too so I can find out about power sources and how much power I'll have."

"Okay, I can get an electrician there. I'll just check with Eric first."

I got up from my place at the table and made my way over to where Eric had just sat down.

"Hey," he smiled looking up at me.

"Hey," I smiled back. "So, the A/V guy, Quinn, is here today. Could you meet after this to run through your concerns for the equipment in the court?"

His eyes darted to Quinn and back to me. "Uh, sure. That works for me."

"Great, I'll just…." but before I could finish my thought Sophie-Anne and Pamela entered so I broke off my sentence and hurried back to my seat.

Sophie-Anne settled into her chair and quickly swept a gaze across the room. Her eyes passed Quinn, but then quickly returned and narrowed ever so slightly. "I'm guessing you're the sound guy?" she queried.

Quinn half rose from his chair. "Yes, ma'am. I'm John Quinn from Sight & Sound. You can call me Quinn."

The second Quinn said 'ma'am' I could feel the entire room stiffen. Sophie-Anne just wasn't somebody you ma'amed. She could be 70 years old and I wouldn't dream of ma'aming her.

Sophie-Anne raised her chin in the air a bit and lifted her left hand to inspect her lacquered nails. "Call me Sophie-Anne," she said. Her eyes then turned from her nails to Quinn like a heat seeking missile. "Don't ever call me ma'am," she added in a deadly serious tone.

"Alright then, Sophie-Anne." He gave her a lopsided grin.

I had a hard time reconciling the fact that I'd once been attracted to his confidence, because what I once saw as confidence now seemed like either sheer stupidity or a death wish. Lafayette shot me a look from across the table. It was an "I can't believe you used to do him" look. I ignored him and pretended to make some notes instead. Hindsight is 20/20.

"Moving right along," Sophie continued, "I confirmed our musical performance this morning. No Doubt has agreed to do a 30 minute set."

The room was suddenly buzzing with the news and Sophie-Anne was clearly pleased by the response. "Sookie, Pamela will send you the manager's contact information so you can coordinate their rider and other details."

I nodded my agreement.

Sophie-Anne ran through a laundry list of updates and I piped in when necessary. After about 45 minutes it seemed we'd run through everything. I started to shuffle my papers into a pile, preparing to leave when Sophie-Anne's look fell on me. "Oh, Alcide sent over the images from the photo shoot. You two have amazing chemistry on camera." She waved her pen back and forth indicating me and Eric.

I could feel my flush rising and sensed all eyes in the room ping-pong between me and Eric. Keeping a neutral look on my face, I continued to look at Sophie-Anne. "We're working on the layout of the page now, but expect to be sending it to Tom Ford's office for his blessing next week. That wraps this meeting up, we'll see you all next month."

Quinn leaned over and holding a hand up to shield his mouth from the rest of the room chided in a low tone, "So, you and sensitive pony-tail guy were in a photo shoot?"

"Give it a rest, Quinn. His name is Eric and it was for work. Let's go get him so we can do this walk-through. And don't mention the photo shoot again, okay?"

I held up a finger to Eric indicating that I'd be ready to go in a minute, and made a quick detour over to Lafayette.

"Hey, Gorgeous."

"Hi, Lafayette." I gave him a playful little punch on the upper arm. "So, did you know you're having dinner with me and my friend Amelia on Friday night?"

He looked at me quizzically. "Since when?"

"Since the New York Times decided they want to do _A_ _Night Out With_ piece on me." Lafayette raised his eyebrows at that. "You told me to use this…whatever it is…for good, so I thought you and Amelia could benefit from the exposure."

"Hell yes I want the exposure! Just tell me the time and place."

I laughed at his enthusiasm. "I'll call you later this week once I've figured it out, but it will probably be 8:30."

Squeezing past the few people still gathered in the room, I made my over to Eric who was leaning against the wall flipping through messages on his blackberry. I glanced back to Quinn and motioned him over.

"Are you sure you have time for this?" I asked.

Eric looked up from his blackberry and his mouth edged up into a little smile. "I don't have anything until two, and I'll feel better after meeting the sound guy. This is good."

Quinn leaned in at that moment and offered his hand to Eric. "John Quinn from Light & Sound. Call me Quinn."

Eric reached out to return the handshake. "Eric Northman. Curator from the Greek and Roman Department." He broke the grip and motioned to the door.

I lead the way to the elevator banks and on the way called the Electric Shop to make sure an electrician would meet us in the court. Filing onto the elevator, I stood between Eric and Quinn. I thought I should try to politely make some conversation, but they were such a study in contrasts I was having difficulty coming up with anything of interest to say.

"So….Quinn and I have worked together on events for years. He's really the best at what he does. We're in good hands."

Eric didn't say anything but 'huh' accompanied by a quick glance to Quinn and a nod of the head. So much for that.

"Yeah, I've done events everywhere in the city. Done them all over the Met too," Quinn said with a hint of arrogance. Eric seemed far from impressed.

Quinn then turned to me. "I bet we'll be working together now more than ever now, Sookie."

"Maybe so," I said in as dismissive a tone as possible without seeming too rude. The doors dinged open. Walking off the elevator I nearly collided with a man in a navy jumpsuit.

"Hey, Sookie. Just on my way to find ya." It was Vinnie, my newest pal from the Electric Shop. "Sal radioed me that you need somebody from the shop in the court. I could kiss ya. Got me outta talking to that crazy bat of a curator from Photography. You know how they yammer." He glanced up at Eric. "No offense."

"None taken," Eric laughed.

I made introductions all around as we continued on to the court. Parking ourselves centrally near the fountain, I explained the general production needs and plan for the stage. Quinn walked off behind me in the direction of the proposed stage location. Chatting with Eric and Vinnie a bit more about the lighting effects that Lafayette had envisioned, I was interrupted by Quinn practically shouting, "Hey…Babe?" from across the court. Eric's head snapped up to Quinn and then to me with a look of incredulity.

I stiffened but didn't turn around until he repeated it again. Upon hearing him call "Babe" a second time I spun around and marched over to Quinn. Behind me I heard Vinnie ask Eric, "Who the hell does this chump think he is?"

Building up a head of steam as I closed the distance, I had my left hand on my hip and my right pointer finger in full force when I reached him.

"Quinn. Call me Sookie. Especi…"

"Aww, Ba…"

"Quinn! Call me Sookie. Don't _ever_ call me 'babe'. Ever."

He threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Jeez. It's just a term of endearment."

"_Exactly_. Let's just keep it professional, okay?"

"Okay, boss lady."

I gave him a mild glare. "Let's get back to Vinnie and Eric."

I rejoined the group with my arms crossed. Eric and Vinnie looked up to Quinn with neutral faces, but their distaste for him was palpable. Quinn was an affable guy, but he really rubbed some people the wrong way.

The trio of men moved through the court discussing the location of speakers, lighting trusses and decibel levels. I trailed a little behind thinking of how to best fit all the tables in the court rather than paying close attention to the men's conversation. After about twenty minutes they seemed to be done.

"Vinnie, could I see where your power feeds are located here and on the balcony?" Quinn asked.

That was my cue to leave, so I said my goodbyes as did Eric and we headed back toward the Great Hall.

"Do you have lunch plans?" Eric asked looking down at his watch.

"Uh, no."

"Do you want to grab something to eat before my two o'clock?"

"Well….I'd like to, but do you think that's such a good idea after the whole Page Six thing?"

"Not here. Let's go someplace over on Madison."

I smiled. "Okay. Let me get my coat. I'll meet you back here in three." Once I was out of Eric's view I practically skipped back to my office. I ran a brush through my hair and was about to reapply my lip gloss, but stopped myself. I didn't want Eric to think I was primping for lunch with him.

Meeting back up with Eric, we pushed through the Great Hall doors. I squinted into the sunlight after hours in the mostly artificial light of the museum. It was one of those gorgeous days that promised spring would eventually come.

"Where should we go? I don't know that many places around here yet."

Eric just pointed up the street and after a brief two minute walk he opened the door for me into a charming French bakery with rustic wooden communal tables. Our conversation over sandwiches and iced tea was easy and natural. I was grateful he never asked about Quinn or the 'Babe' incident.

"So, what led you here….to art?" I asked.

Eric rubbed his chin and thought for a moment before speaking. "I've been a history buff since I was a kid – probably since my family took a trip to the Jamestown Settlement when I was in fourth grade. In high school I took an art history class and it all clicked for me." He shrugged his shoulders slightly and took a swig of tea. "Art is such a tangible record of a very specific point in time – it reflects the politics, religion, and wars of the time. It's an indelible marker of who and what were prized in society. Understanding the historical and sociological context within which a piece of art was created became a near obsession of mine."

"And why Greek and Roman art?"

"I think I was mostly drawn to it because of the staggering influence the ancient Greek and Roman worlds had on western culture. Late Greek and Early Roman sculpture is my main area of expertise, and my particular interest is the Hellenistic period."

I wished I could remember the specifics of Hellenistic art from my classes and say something pithy, but I was way too rusty to even consider faking it. "And the Hellenistic period is distinguished how?"

"Well, Classical sculpture attempted to embody ideals – perfect beauty, balance and harmony. Hellenistic sculpture was more realistic and natural. It portrayed inner character, emotions….truthfulness. Probably the best know Hellenistic sculptures are _Winged Aphrodite_ and _Venus de Milo_."

"I know those statues, of course, but I clearly need to brush up on my art history. I enjoyed the history classes but my love was always the studio classes."

"Painting?"

"Well, yes, but mostly drawing. I still take a class every now and then."

"Really? I'd love to see some of your work."

"Pfft. Well, we'll see about that." I laughed. I looked down at my watch. "We'd better go so you're back in time for your meeting."

We ran into Felicia on the stairs to the main entrance of the museum. Her eyes flicked between us. "Hi you two," she said with hint of suspicion in her voice.

I said goodbye to Eric and then turned to Felicia. "Nice to finally have some decent weather, right? It's a good excuse to get out." We were walking back together to the administrative wing.

She smiled in agreement. "Are you two just coming back from lunch?"

"Yeah. We ran out for a quick bite after our walk-through with the sound guy."

She nodded. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, because I really like you Sookie." I braced myself for whatever she was going to say next. "Be careful with Eric. He's a nice guy, but he….well, he's a bit of a player. I just don't want to see you get hurt," she said apologetically.

I laughed a little bit. "Thanks for looking out for me, Felicia, but there is still _nothing_ going on. Just a friendly lunch between colleagues."

She gave me a skeptical look. "If you say so. But you can't say I didn't warn you."

"Well, thanks for the warning," I said still smiling. I gave her a little wave as our paths diverged and pushed our conversation away in my mind. I didn't give a lot of credence to her words in light of our whole history, but I didn't think she was trying to do anything malicious. I returned to my office and quickly forgot about our entire exchange.

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Wendy met me in my office at the end of the day Friday. She'd gotten permission from the group home to accompany me while I volunteered. The parent organization that ran the home was thrilled to be getting the exposure through the piece. Of course the individual kids themselves wouldn't be mentioned in the article, but the program itself would be highlighted.

She was much like I anticipated she would be after our initial phone conversation - direct and a little brusque, but a great conversationalist. She really knew how to draw people out which was why she'd apparently been assigned to do the _A Night Out With_ column. I guess not so surprisingly, she was a natural with the kids too. Wendy seemed to be quite moved by the experience and I hoped that would translate to a larger mention in the piece.

In the cab to the restaurant I gave Wendy a little background about Lafayette and Amelia. "Listen, I know you groaned when I mentioned that Amelia is an actress, but she's in a play that starts soon. If you could drop any kind of mention in your article I'd really appreciate it."

"Are you writing this piece or am I?" She half joked.

"Okay. Point well taken. Sorry," I laughed.

"Please. I'm used to it. Most people are usually trying to pimp out their own projects though."

Lafayette and Amelia were waiting for us when we got to the restaurant. We'd decided on Graffiti, a great Indian restaurant downtown. It wasn't convenient geographically, but their lychee martini was reason enough to make the long haul. The four of us got along like a house on fire. By the end of the night Lafayette had extracted a promise from Wendy that she'd join us to see Amelia's play. I hoped that boded well for a mention in the article. After three hours we finally left the restaurant and Amelia and I shared a cab back to the Upper West Side.

Drawing class Saturday morning was painful. I felt – and looked - like death warmed over. Before I even arrived at class I realized I'd made a massive tactical error. I shouldn't have even bothered getting out of bed. Nevertheless, I soldiered through class, but went straight back to bed afterward and nursed my hangover until late afternoon.

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On Sunday morning I went for a jog to atone for being such a sloth the day before. Setting a pot of coffee to brew before leaving, I bundled up and ventured out.

It was a chilly February day, so as I was nearing the end of my third lap of the reservoir, I decided to call it quits. The runners were sparse because of the temperature, so I noticed when a couple jogged onto the track at one of the entry points about 50 yards in front of me. I nearly laughed out loud at the extreme difference in their sizes. She was a super petite brunette, _maybe_ five feet, and he was Eric's height. Oh. It _was_ Eric. My heart sank when I saw her say something to him and he laughed back giving her an affectionate look and a squeeze of the shoulder that said they knew each other quite well. Fortunately they were running away from me and I was able to slip off the track and jog the short distance to my apartment without being noticed.

I was grateful I had a pot of coffee to comfort myself when I got through the door. Sinking onto the couch with the steaming mug, I willed myself to not get upset, to not feel crushed at the thought of Eric with another woman. Granted, I did have the ultimate 'insert foot in mouth' moment with Eric, but I felt like we'd been making some progress toward something that might become more than friends. Felicia's words surfaced to the forefront of my mind and I felt foolish for my complete disregard of her warning.

But I'd never allowed a guy to make me mopey, so I just gave myself a few moments to feel my sadness. Then I built a little box in my mind to compartmentalize both my hope for Eric and my disappointment with what I'd witnessed. Having packed both away, I picked up the paper and forced myself to move on to other thoughts.

_**A/N Thank you so much for your kind reviews and for those who have added this to your favorites or alerts list. It is much appreciated!**_


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Have you subscribed yet for the SVM Teaser Mondays on the Sookieverse Forum? You can read teasers for stories that will be going up throughout the week - check it out!

_ Also, make sure you visit the **The Sookieverse Blog.** You can find the SVM/TB author directory and lots of other great stuff. www(dot)thesookieverse(dot)com_

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"Holly, Halleigh, Lucy….do you three have time to meet for a few minutes to through the schedule for the week?"

The event season was in full swing at the museum and we would be in a flat sprint until Memorial Day. Taking a week off to go to Greece after the Party of the Year didn't feel right, but my ticket was purchased, and truthfully, I had a great team who could handle everything in my absence.

Quickly the three filed in, calendars in hand, and settled around the conference table.

I looked around the table at the three of them and smiled. "First of all, thank you for helping me to acclimate to the special events department. I've been so impressed with the quality of work that you do and I'm glad to be on your team. As we move into this busy stretch, please_, please_ don't hesitate to delegate up to me if you feel like you're drowning, okay?"

The three nodded their agreement. "Holly, will you start? If you'll just run through the events on your plate for the week."

"Sure," Holly smiled. "Tomorrow night is, of course, the Morgan Stanley dinner in Engelhard Court. United Technologies has their corporate meetings in the Trustees Board Room all day Wednesday and Thursday, and Pfizer is hosting a small dinner for 60 on Thursday night in the Velez Blanco Patio."

Holly managed the majority of the corporate events that were held at the museum and Halleigh handled the bigger internal events. Lucy's role was largely administrative, but I was encouraging her to take on some of the smaller internal events for the museum. I oversaw the overall work of the three and took primary responsibility for the museum's six benefits. There were plenty of events to go around so I wanted to make sure everybody was getting to work on projects that were challenging and suited their interests.

Halleigh piped up with her schedule, "Tonight we have a membership event in Petrie Court, Tuesday is the Frederica von Stade concert in the auditorium, Wednesday night is the opening of the Gordon Parks exhibition in the Photography Galleries with a reception in the Temple of Dendur, and Friday afternoon we have a lunch for the American Paintings supporters in their galleries."

I looked at Lucy expectantly for her schedule. She was still quite timid, but I thought once she gained some confidence she'd be an excellent event coordinator.

Lucy began, "Um, the Apollo Circle is having a gallery talk in the Vanderlyn Panorama Wednesday evening, and then the Photography Department is having a small lunch in the Rose Room on Wednesday for the underwriters of the Gordon Parks Exhibit. That's all for me this week."

"I think we need to have all hands on deck Tuesday, and Thursday. But Holly and Halleigh….I'll stay here with Lucy Wednesday night so you two can take a night off. Lucy, you don't need to stay tonight. The next couple of months are going to be punishing, so I want to make sure everybody had at least one night off a week when it's possible, okay?"

"Now, on another note...as you may know, Catherine is concerned about cultivating a younger audience of donors for the museum. Don't kill me for suggesting this, but I'd like to propose to her that we institute a Young Friends benefit aimed at a younger crowd – say under forty, but skewing closer to thirty. I was thinking something in June…maybe in the Temple of Dendur?"

The eyes of all three sparked with excitement at the thought of conceptualizing a 'junior' event. "Think about it over the next couple of days and let's meet to discuss later this week. I'd like to present the idea to Catherine next week because we'd obviously need to have her blessing." At that we decided to break, feeling the pull of the mountain of work on our collective plate.

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Bill and I had planned to have lunch together on Tuesday. I'd hoped we'd be able to venture out, but I was pinched for time so we stuck to the cafeteria. The food was actually decent, but I was craving a change of scenery.

"How's Augustus?" I asked between bites of my tuna melt.

Bill sighed. "The process is slow as molasses. We're still consulting with experts at other museums about the best methods for reconstructing the statue. Technology has advanced so much over the last two years that we're almost in uncharted territory. I know the museum and especially the Greek and Roman Department are frustrated that it's taking so long, but we have to make sure the restoration is flawless."

"So, how do you even do it? It sounds like an impossible 3D puzzle. Do you use tweezers to put together the little shards back together?" I had visions of the game Operation from my childhood in my head. I had always sucked at Operation.

"You really should let me give you a tour of the lab so you can check it out. Do you have any time this week?"

I squished my face us a bit as I answered. "This week is pretty busy. The only time I could do it is Friday afternoon."

"Friday would be perfect! Chip gets in from LA Thursday night and I was going to have him swing by Friday afternoon."

"In that case, count me in. I can't wait to meet him!" I waggled my eyebrows at Bill.

"He wants to meet you and talk shop about events. And he's curious to see if you share what he fondly calls my 'regional peculiarities'." I was about to ask him more about these 'regional peculiarities', but Bill's attention had suddenly latched onto something behind me. His eyes got as big as saucers, so I turned around and gasped when I saw Eric approach our table.

"Oh my god, Eric. What happened?" I uttered through my hand which had flown up to cover my mouth in surprise. Eric was sporting a nasty looking black eye.

Eric waved a hand dismissively. "It's not as bad as it looks. I just took an elbow to the eye last night playing basketball. May I?" he asked, indicating the empty chair at our table.

"Of course." I tugged my tray a little closer to me to make room. My eye hurt just looking at his.

"Compton," Eric said in acknowledgement of Bill. Bill gave him a friendly nod back.

"Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but I wanted to make sure we're still on for the play. It's this Saturday, right?"

"Yep – it's Saturday. I'm glad you still want to come. We've got a good group lined up to come. Feel free to invite anybody else you think would want to come – we can just buy tickets at the door."

"I might have a couple of friends who would be interested. I'll see."

"Well, the more the merrier. We're going to meet at Schiller's Liquor Bar at seven-ish, then head over for the play at eight. You're welcome to join or just come straight to the theatre." I pulled a scrap of paper out of my purse and scribbled down the address of the theater and slid it over to Eric. I wondered if he'd bring the brunette from the park. Ugh.

He looked it over for a second, then folded it in half and slid it into his pocket. Rapping his right hand on the table a couple of times, he pushed back his chair. "I'll let you get back to your lunch. See you two later." He gave me a crooked smile before standing and weaving his way through the tables to the exit.

"He wears that shiner well." Bill said appreciatively.

I laughed shaking my head. Bill always seemed to have some quip about Eric. "Let's get out of here."

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On Thursday morning, I was shocked to find that both Holly and Halleigh had already arrived when I got to the office at 8:30 a.m.

"What brings you ladies in so early?" I called from my office as I hung up my coat.

They entered my office with notebooks in hand and smiles on their faces. "Well, we've been thinking about the Young Friends event and wanted to discuss our ideas with you," offered Holly.

"Excellent! Have a seat. What have you got?" I asked settling into a chair. I was thrilled to see them taking the initiative.

Holly spoke for the two of them, "Well, we were thinking that it would be cool to run with the whole Egyptian thing since you wanted to have the party in Dendur."

"Uh, do you mean something in the vein of Cleopatra or King Tut?" I was unable to keep an edge of skepticism out of my voice.

"No, no." Holly laughed. "We were thinking along the lines of Colonial Egypt – 1920's."

A smile spread across my face as I rolled the idea around in my head. It was perfect. "I love that idea. Didn't the Met acquire a large portion of their Egyptian collection at that time?"

Halleigh jumped in. Since she handled internal events, she'd worked closely with the Egyptian Department on a few openings and was familiar with the history of their permanent collection. "The Met actually took an entire team over for a dig around that time. There are a ton of black and white photographs and even some film footage of the excavations."

My mind began to race with the possibilities of their proposed theme. "You know, we could project the film onto the eastern wall of the space – have the picture be as large as possible without losing the image quality. It could run silently on a continuous loop through the event. If this event is approved we'd need to do this on a shoestring, so I think we should do a cocktail party – and maybe just pass bite-sized desserts to keep the costs low. We could rent some tall palm trees and transform the platform surrounding the temple into a exotic lounge setting. Like a desert oasis."

"What do you think of "Glamour on the Nile" for the name of the event?" Holly asked.

I nodded with a smile on my face. "I _love_ it. I think the audience we're aiming for would be drawn in by it too. I'd like to ask Sophie-Anne if there might be a designer who would be interested in sponsoring this. Maybe Dolce & Gabbana? From what I've read they're trying to court this demographic."

We were interrupted by a knock on the door. Swiveling my head to see who was there, I was shocked to see Alcide's large frame looming in the doorway.

"Uh, hi Sookie." He said sheepishly with a grin on his face.

"Alcide! What are you doing here?" I said popping out of my chair.

"I had an appointment on the Upper East Side and thought I'd drop off these proofs in case you want to keep them."

He crossed the threshold and extended an oversized envelope to me. I looked down at the envelope. A peculiar mix of anxiousness and dread swept over me at the prospect of seeing the photos. I definitely didn't want to look at them with an audience.

"Thanks for bringing them by….that was so thoughtful of you."

He gave a little shrug. I guess he figured it was the least he could do after checking out on me in the middle of our date.

"Oooh, are those from the photo shoot?" asked Holly.

"Uh, yeah….I'm sorry I didn't make introductions yet. This is Alcide Herveaux, the photographer from the shoot. This is Holly and Halleigh, the museum's event coordinators."

They both were gazing at Alcide with starry eyes. "Nice to meet you," they murmured in unison.

I looked back at him again. Tousled hair, nice smile, rugged features, animated green eyes…. he was definitely attractive, but the bloom was off the rose for me.

"Can we see the photos?" Halleigh asked.

"Oh, you know…." I started looking down at my watch, "I've got this thing, um, with…" I lightly snapped the fingers of my right hand as I was searching my brain for an excuse but was coming up blank. "I'm supposed to call somebody about a potential event at nine." I was a lousy liar.

Halleigh looked down at her watch and looked back at me. "It's only 8:50. You've got time to look at them."

Alcide gave me a knowing smile. "Well, I'll leave you ladies be. Holly, Halleigh – good to meet you. Sookie, it was really nice to see you again."

"Thanks for dropping off the photos, Alcide." I gave him a peck on the cheek and he slipped out of the office.

Holly and Halleigh looked at me expectantly, but I stuck to my guns. "Listen, this whole photo shoot thing still kind of freaks me out. Let me look at them first and then I'll show you, okay?"

Begrudgingly, they left the room and I sat at my desk. I slid my finger under the flap of the envelope until the adhesive popped open. I tipped the envelope a bit and the slick pieces of photo paper spilled out onto the desk surface haphazardly. At the sight of the images I inhaled sharply and groaned a little when I released the breath.

The images were beautiful, intense, and…well….intimate. I slowly sifted through the photos. It was odd to remember those moments with Eric in such vivid detail, and then see it from an onlooker's perspective. Unlike most photos that never seemed to quite capture the magic of a scene or memory, these not only captured, but also enhanced the memory of what I had experienced.

I worked to put the photos in chronological sequence, then bent down to more closely inspect them again. As I flipped my way through, I became aware that my heart rate was rapidly increasing.

"So?" Halleigh hollered from the other room. "Can we see them now?"

"Just give me a minute," I called back. I looked through the photos again and realized that I wasn't embarrassed by them, I simply didn't want to share them with anyone. But, of course, at least one of them would be run in _Stila_ and circulated to over a million people. I rubbed my palm in a circle on my forehead in an attempt to relax the tensed muscles, and picked out the photo that seemed the least charged and walked it into Holly and Halleigh.

I dropped the photo on a small table between them and laughed as Halleigh launched herself from her desk chair and pounced on the photo with Holly close behind her. I was interested to gauge their reaction. The two jockeyed to get a better look at the photo.

"Oh, my _God_," Holly said as she examined the photo. After a few seconds they looked at each other before looking at me with a shared stunned expression.

"Whoa." Halleigh said. "That's just…..whoa."

"You and Eric are like…wow."

Apparently the shock of seeing me in the photo with Eric left both Holly and Halleigh verbally impaired.

"Okay, okay. Enough." I said and snatched the photo back. Retreating to my office, I returned the photo to its proper order, slid the set back into the envelope, and gingerly tucked it into my bag. If Holly and Halleigh were any indication, the release of the magazine was sure to cause a stir in the museum. Glancing down at my calendar, I nervously chewed on my thumb. It would be on the stands next week. Pushing the bubble of anxiety to the recesses of my mind, I turned on my computer and emailed Catherine's assistant to set up an appointment to pitch the Young Friends benefit.

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Between meetings on Friday I slipped down to the conservation lab to meet Chip and get the grand tour from Bill. Chip was an absolute hoot. He never stopped talking and was one of those people whom you instantly knew was meticulous - an absolute perfectionist. I could tell he was very well suited for his chosen career path and I'm sure he was extremely successful.

Bill had us don white lab coats and led us through the fluorescent lit expanse past the countless items that were being handled by the conservation department. I was amazed to see this whole other world that existed below the museum. We neared the back corner of the lab to a large area that had been designated for the Augustus reconstruction. Desks with computers ringed the area that held a multitude of tables covered with padded trays containing various pieces ranging from a large torso to tiny shards of the demolished statue. It reminded me of a C.S.I. set.

At one end of the space hung a large plasma screen that showed the image of Augustus before the accident, and a 3D map of the statue showing the major breaking points. Bill talked us through the fascinating process and showed us some of the computer technology they were using to aid in the reconstruction. Before long I needed to leave for a meeting, so Bill promised I could come back again to see how the work was progressing.

By the end of the workday I was wiped out, but knew I needed to gather the energy to volunteer. Considering my schedule for the upcoming weeks, I was concerned about my ability to continue volunteering. I felt like I was starting to burn the candle at both ends. As much as I hate to admit it, I considered skipping my commitment for the night. In a split second though, I pictured the faces of the children I'd come to know, thought back to some of the lonely days of my childhood, and put on my big girl pants.

When I left the group home around eight, I was feeling renewed and more centered. My involvement with this organization had become vital to me and I resolved to figure out how to make sure I could continue to fit it into my life.

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Muddy's was as crowded as I'd ever seen it. I felt like a fish swimming upstream as I fought my way in the entrance. Not a single table was available and I was just about to leave when I saw Eric wave from several tables away. Once he saw that he'd caught my attention, he beckoned me over to his table. As I approached he pushed a chair out from the table with his foot.

"Have a seat," he said simply.

"Thanks. I was on the verge of bailing and suffering through my home brew."

"We can't have that," he said smiling. His eye looked much better. It was mostly a greenish tint with just a couple of streaks of dark purple.

"You know that black eye makes you look pretty tough." I joked.

He reached up to touch it with his fingertips and winced a bit. "I'm just glad it's almost gone. I have to give a series of lectures next week and I'm afraid this look wouldn't go over so well with the stuffed shirts."

Over my shoulder a woman's voice called, "Hi, sweetie!"

Eric's face lit up. "Hi, Thalia."

I turned to see the petite brunette from the park and a pit opened up in my stomach. Eric stood to hug her and she sat in a chair next to him and ran her hand up and down his forearm.

She turned to look at me and flashed me a genuine smile. "Hi, I'm Thalia," she said extending her hand to shake mine.

"I'm Sookie. Eric and I work together at the Met," I offered, smiling as best I could.

"Ah! I've always been jealous of Eric for working at such an amazing place. Are you a curator there too?" She was adorable and personable. As much as I wanted to dislike her, I just couldn't.

"Oh, no. I work in special events. We're working on the Party of the Year together."

"No way!" She playfully smacked Eric on the arm. "Why didn't you tell me you were working on that? I've always wanted to go. In fact, I was just telling Jess that we need to figure out a way to finagle tickets. I didn't realize I could just ask you. Oh, Jess should be coming any minute."

"Sookie is the one who organized the play tonight," Eric told Thalia. Turning to me he added, "Thalia and Jess are going to come tonight too."

I fervently hoped Amelia would be coming to our table soon. I could use an Irish Coffee. An extra strong one.

"Jess!" Eric said standing up.

"Hey man, good to see you." I was surprised to hear a masculine voice. Eric and Jess did the male half-hug, back slap thing that I always found humorous. Jess then bent down and gave Thalia a tender kiss. It was only then that I noticed the huge rock on her ring finger.

Thalia introduced me to Jess just as Amelia approached.

"Hey everybody, can I take your order?"

"Amelia!" I jumped up and gave her an enthusiastic hug. I'd never done that before and it clearly startled her.

"Sookie! What got into you this morning?" She chuckled backing out of my embrace. She eyed me with a little suspicion.

"Just excited to see your play tonight. Meet some of your audience." I swept my hand to indicate our table and made introductions.

"It's nice to meet you, Thalia and Jess. Gosh, thanks in advance for coming tonight! Let me get your orders and I'll be right back." She walked away with a spring in her step, energized by the thought of tonight's show.

Jess and Eric were deep in conversation about college basketball so I turned my attention to Thalia. "How do y'all know each other?" I asked.

"College," Thalia answered. "Eric dated three – no, make that four of my friends."

"You two never…" I started to ask teasingly.

"_God,_ no! Eric's always been more of a brother to me. Plus, I always had a thing for Jess," she said, winking at her husband.

Jess and Thalia told me a few stories from their college days. Eric was the butt of each story. I laughed until my ribs ached and Eric shook his head with a mock scowl. I'd finished my latte and was needing to run some errands, so said my goodbyes.

"It was nice to meet you both. I'll see you all tonight." I smiled.

"We'll definitely meet up at Schiller's. I love that place," enthused Thalia.

I caught Amelia to give her a quick goodbye and was out the door.

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There was a knock on my door at six o'clock on the nose.

"Come in!" I yelled from my bedroom as I pulled on my boots. Lafayette was meeting me at my apartment and we were going down to Schiller's together. I slung my purse over my shoulder and hurried into the living room.

"Hey, Sookie gi…" he abrubtly stopped short and gave me a once over. "What the fuck is that?" he asked indicating my outfit with a slash of his pointer finger.

"Uh, my outfit." I answered with sarcasm, looking down at my black boots, dark blue jeans and black turtleneck sweater. Perfectly acceptable in my book.

"Wrong. Get back in there and try again." He shooed me with a flick of his wrist and sank onto the couch.

I rolled my head back in exasperation and marched back to my room in a huff, tearing open my closet door. I reemerged a minute later in a v-neck crimson blouse. Lafayette looked at me and rejected my second effort like a pitcher shaking off a sign.

I cocked out my leg and stood with my arms akimbo. "Well, what am I supposed to wear, Lafayette?"

Lafayette wordlessly got up off the couch and pulled me by the elbow down the hallway to my closet. I sat on the edge of my bed and listed to the sound of crinkling dry cleaning bags, the metallic scrape of hangers against the hanging rod and heavy sighs as he tore through my selection. Eventually he spun around holding up a black blouse with the tags still attached.

"This." Lafayette said simply.

"Oh, Lafayette - I was planning to return it," I whined and scrunched up my face. "It's just…."

"Too fashionable to be in your wardrobe? Not boring enough? Just put it on." He tossed it to me and swept out of the room closing the door behind him.

The top was an impulse buy from a couple of months ago. It had seemed like a good idea in the dressing room, but once I'd gotten it home I realized I'd never wear it. The blouse was fairly simple; it had long dolman sleeves and draped – almost plunged - rather dramatically in the front. The back had a deep keyhole opening. It was sexy in an understated way and revealed more than I was accustomed to, but substantially less than I frequently saw on other women.

I loosely pinned the front sections of my hair back so it was half up, threw in some long dangly gold earrings à la Studio 54, and stacked a few gold bangled on my left wrist. I returned to the living room and raised my eyebrows and hands to wordlessly ask for Lafayette's approval.

"Much better. Let's go."

We were lucky to find a cab and made it to the Lower East Side in record time, and actually arrived a little before seven. Since it was still early we were able to land a table that seated four close to the bar. I ordered moules frites and a glass of white wine, thankful that I had time to eat before the play.

Wendy arrived next and Bill and Chip followed closely on her heels. Wendy sat with us and ordered too while Bill and Chip staked out a spot at the bar. Schiller's was a relatively new restaurant that was designed to look like it had been around for decades. The white subway tiled walls and penny tiled floors were sufficiently covered in enough faux grime to make a neat freak's skin crawl. Vintage light fixtures, cloudy mirrors, an L-shaped zinc bar and mismatched, beat up furniture all added up to a transporting, albeit deafening atmosphere.

"Sookie," Wendy leaned over so I could hear her, but I still had to strain to hear her over the din of the crowd. "I need to talk to you about the _Night Out_ piece."

I raised an eyebrow while I took a sip of wine to let her know I was listening.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but it just didn't work to include the bit about the group home in the piece."

"What? That's the whole reason I agreed to do it in the first place!" I was livid, and felt like I'd been cheated.

"Hey, I know, but you've got to trust me on this. A tiny mention of the visit in the piece wouldn't do the organization or the cause justice. I pitched the idea to my editor, and they've agreed to let me do a feature length article on the organization."

"Really? That's fantastic!"

"I know! Truthfully, it's great for me too. I've been dying to write something other than the _Night Out_ piece for over a year now. God, it'll be nice to finally write something with a little substance."

"Well then, congratulations to _you_!" I lifted my glass in a toast and clinked it with hers.

"I'd really like to interview you for this article. Please?" Wendy implored.

My raised glass sank down to the table and my shoulders slumped at her request. I was facing way more press exposure next week than I'd ever wanted, and now Wendy was wanting me for more.

"Remember, Sookie, it's all about the kids." She said in a gratingly sing song voice. I closed my eyes and took a moment to get over myself.

"You're right. I think it's terrific that you'll be writing it, and I'll be glad to help you however I can." This wasn't about me at all, and I was really thrilled that the group home and the plight of foster kids in general would get more exposure.

This time Wendy raised her glass to clink mine, and winked. "I knew you'd come around." At that moment I could see her attention was captured by something behind me. "Mamma Mia, would you look at that?"

Lafayette and I turned to see what she was making a fuss about. Eric, Thalia and Jess were working their way to us through the crowd and, of course, Eric's face was looming above the rest of the crowd.

I stood to make introductions as they approached. Wendy got out of her chair too and glued herself to Eric's side. Soon she and Eric were engrossed in a conversation with Bill and Chip. Jess and Thalia joined my table and we all chatted over drinks until it was time to leave for the play. For some reason I didn't feel any threat from Wendy - I just wanted to be talking to Eric myself.

The theatre was the size of a postage stamp and that always made me uncomfortable. I much preferred being an anonymous audience member. In a space this close the actors could see my every expression if they wanted…..it was a lot of pressure. I fixed a thoughtful, pleasant look on my face and settled in for the play.

Surprisingly enough, the play was interesting and well done. Amelia gave a moving portrayal of a deranged young woman. The other actors played out her inner thoughts. It ran without any intermission, so was over in a little less than an hour and a half. We lingered for a bit afterwards, and Amelia soon bounced out from the dressing room, ready to hit the town and celebrate finishing the first weekend of the show. I hugged her in congratulations and gave her a bouquet I'd picked up from a Korean deli on the way over.

Amelia suggested we hit a bar around the corner and roped one of her fellow actors into joining us. Upon arrival, Bill kindly bought me a gin and tonic, and I hung out near the bar with him and Chip. Eric was behind me talking to Amelia and her friend Lisbeth. I wanted to jump into their conversation, but couldn't find a graceful way out of my current conversational pairing.

"This place blows," Amelia announced after about twenty minutes. "Let's get out of here. I know another place around the corner that's usually pretty fun."

We put on our coats and like lemmings followed Amelia out the door. Lafayette and I walked arm and arm behind Amelia and soon were ensconced in a booth with Amelia and Lisbeth. I'd scooted into the seat first, so was blocked in by Lafayette. Feeling trapped, I immediately regretted my decision to slide in first, but didn't say anything. From my vantage point I had a great view of Wendy sidling up to Eric again and I was ready to jump out of my skin.

Lafayette noticed I was a little uptight and squeezed my shoulders to try to relax me a little.

"Jesus, you're tense. You've got knots in your shoulders the size of boulders."

"It's where I carry my tension I guess." I shrugged.

"I think you need to get laid."

"Lafayette!" I shrieked. I reddened and glanced around to make sure nobody else aside from our table heard him.

"You do. When's the last time?"

"I'm not telling you that." I snipped back indignantly.

"Two years." Amelia answered for me. I shot her a death glare.

Lafayette's jaw dropped. "Are you telling me that _Quinn _was…."

"Uh, huh," Amelia answered for me again.

"Sookie girl, I had no idea. Your case is more dire than I realized." He looked at Amelia, "We really need to work on this." She nodded back gravely.

"Good Lord. Can we _please_ not talk about this? At least not right now?" I pleaded, my hands shielding my eyes.

"Fine, but this conversation is not over." Lafayette conceded.

Mercifully our waitress arrived with our drinks and I took a long draw from my gin and tonic. The conversation moved on to the play's crazy director who was dating the producer but sleeping with the stage manager. Before long, Amelia got antsy and rounded up the troops to once again move.

We reached our third post-play destination - a quintessential downtown dive. By this point I was very frustrated at my lack of one-on-one time with Eric and felt a little uninhibited after a couple of gin and tonics. We settled in around a couple of tables that had been haphazardly pushed together. Eric was one of the first to sit down. I was determined to finally sit next to him, but before I could reach the chair, Wendy darted in to snag it. I chuckled to myself at the ridiculousness of the situation and claimed my consolation seat next to Wendy. My eyes landed on a pool table situated on the far side of the bar and I craned my neck a bit to see if anybody was playing.

"Do you play?" Eric asked me over Wendy.

In response I gave him a half smile, stood, and threaded my way through the crowd to the empty table. I didn't look to see if he'd followed me. I knew he would. Eyeing the cues on the wall, I pulled down a 19 ounce cue and squinted down the shaft with one eye while rolling it with my hand to make sure it was straight. Eric looked at me with amusement.

"What?" I asked in an innocent tone. "Pick your cue. Are you gonna rack 'em, or should I?" My alcohol intake was causing my speech to get lazy and I was slipping into a thicker southern accent. I was also becoming more brazen.

"I think I'd like to see _you _rack them." Eric grinned with a slightly cocked eyebrow.

"Fine." I laid my cue on the table while pulling the rack from the slot under the table, and with a practiced ease flipped the triangle out and slid it against the bumper. Reaching under the table I extracted the pool balls, efficiently dropped them in the rack, then arranged them properly for the break. Sliding the rack and balls back and forth a couple of times, I lined them up perfectly before carefully lifting the rack up with a flourish and depositing it back under the table.

I retrieved my cue and rolled the cue ball down the table to Eric. "Your break." I directed.

He cocked his head to the side, narrowed his eyes a bit and questioned with a smile, "Why do I feel like I'm about to get hustled?"

"Oh please, Eric. I would _never_ conceal my abilities in order to win. I don't cheat." I said in a mockingly offended tone.

"But you clearly know you way around a pool table."

"That I do," I grinned back at him, "and I did make a lot of money playing pool in college."

"So how'd you do it? Do you have Black Widow skills?"

"Pffft, hardly. Do you know how many guys thought they could beat me at pool simply because I was a woman? I'm good but I'm not _that_ good. I know my limitations. But there were a lot of guys with egos that though they couldn't lose to me. They'd want to put ten bucks on a game - I'd beat 'em. They'd want to go double or nothing - I'd beat 'em." I shrugged my shoulders and laughed thinking about it.

I stood at the opposite end of the table from Eric. As he was about to break, I chalked up the end of the cue then gently blew the loose dust from the top. The sound of a poorly hit ball snapped my attention back to the table. Eric had totally blown the break.

"What happened there?" I asked with a skeptical expression on my face.

"Uh, I got distracted."

"Oh, really?" I laughed. "I think you should break again. But after that promising start maybe we need to put a friendly wager on the game?"

A glint sparked in Eric's eye. "Okay. You call it. What are we playing for?"

"Well I hadn't thought that far. A latte?"

"Come on, Sookie. You can do better than that."

"Uh, help with my itinerary for Greece?"

"I already said I'd do that. Plus, what would I get if I won?"

I blew out a breath as I thought. "How about lunch? And bragging rights of course."

Eric looked slightly disappointed. "Fine. But I must say I'm…surprised by your lack of creativity."

"Whatever. Just break, Eric," I said, delivering the head shake, eyeroll, with a slight smile trifecta.

This time he hit pay dirt on his break and sunk two balls – a stripe and a solid. He followed it up with a stripe, but then missed his next shot. With laser focus I proceeded to sink five solid balls, but my last bounced off the corner of the pocket giving Eric a chance to come back. He hit a couple in before it was back to me. I easily dropped my last solid, then called the eight ball to the far right corner pocket. To my immense satisfaction, I hit the ball cleanly and authoritatively for the win.

Crossing to Eric, I reached out my hand to shake his. "Good game," I smiled. My pool 'mentor' in college, Jeremy, taught me to always shake my opponent's hand and look them in the eye after winning so they'd know it wasn't a fluke that I'd won.

"Not so fast, Sookie. Best two out of three?" He began to rack the balls.

"A glutton for punishment, eh?" I laughed.

"I don't plan on losing again. I believe it's your break?" He rolled the cue ball to me.

As I leaned down to line up my shot, my brain suddenly registered the music blaring through the bar. It was Bonnie Raitt's '_Something to Talk About'_. Casually scanning the establishment for the jukebox, I finally spotted it at the end of the long bar. Lafayette and Amelia were conspiratorially huddled over it, pointing out song possibilities to one another and laughing heartily. I quickly turned back to the task at hand. I could only imagine what was coming next.

With a satisfying crack, I broke the balls up across the table, but nothing fell so it was Eric's turn. I never had the chance to shoot again that game – he was on a tear and everything dropped for him.

As the eight ball fell into the pocket I raised my eyebrows and nodded. "Impressive."

"I don't like to lose." He said with a cocky grin all over his face.

"Well, then I apologize in advance, cause you're about to go down."

"Talking smack will get you in all kinds of trouble, Sookie."

"Only if I can't back it up." I racked the balls to _'I Can't Fight This Feeling Any Longer'_. I was going to kill Lafayette and Amelia.

Eric had a decent break, but he only hit one ball in the pocket before it was my turn. I knocked a couple in before missing. We pretty much matched each other shot for shot, but I managed to stay one up on Eric throughout the game and was determined to win. I was up with only the eight ball to sink and Eric still had one left on the table. I didn't have a clear shot, but it was one that I had successfully made plenty of times before. _'Hooked on a Feeling'_ began to play next. I smiled and shook my head a little.

Leaning down over the table, I carefully lined up my shot. My muscles were tensed with deep concentration and I was about to let it rip when Eric's low voice rumbled in my ear, "You sure about that? I think you've got the angle all wrong."

I jumped a little at the sound of his voice and froze in place, then noticed his large hand gripping the bumper just to my left and the heat from his body radiated against my side. He was leaning right over me to see my shot.

"Excuse me," I said, remaining in place, but stiffly turning my neck to look back at him, "Can you give me a little space so I can shoot?"

He backed up, but my concentration had completely evaporated. I tried to regain my composure and line up the shot again, but I was flustered. I took a deep breath and shot. The eight ball dropped, but the cue ball followed right behind. I lost.

I spun to face Eric with my hands on my hips and leveled a dirty look at him. "What was that?"

He shrugged. "All's fair in love, war and pool. I'll look forward to lunch when I'm back in town." With a self-satisfied grin on his face he returned the cues to the stand on the wall.

We rejoined the group but the bartender bellowed out last call shortly thereafter. After lingering a while longer, we all made our way outside. Jess, Thalia, Eric, Amelia and I were all headed to the Upper West Side. We tried to convince a cab driver to take all five of us, but he was adamant about only four.

"You and Amelia take this one," Eric offered, "we'll take the next."

We all said our goodbyes and Amelia and I sunk into the back seat. We rode for several blocks in silence before Amelia finally spoke.

"What are you going to do about Eric, Sookie? It's pretty obvious that you're into each other."

I looked out the window at the passing traffic and giggled thinking about the evening. "I don't know. It's fun, you know…the tension. Sometimes it's the most exciting part, don't you think? Plus it's such a busy time with work, and the Party of the Year is coming up. It seems like it would be better to sort of just let things continue as is until the event is over."

Amelia grumbled unintelligibly under her breath.

"I give you my word….assuming everything is still good, I will make my move as soon as the Party of the Year is over."

"Really? That's so progressive of you, Sookie." Amelia said with an eyeroll.

I playfully punched her arm. "Oh, shut up. We'll just see how it all plays out."

_A/N As always, thanks for reading. Your comments, story alerts and favorites help spur on my writing - they are greatly appreciated!_

On another note, for those who are interested, I've posted a link on my profile to an article about the reconstruction of the statue Adam at the Met. It's what I based the Augustus statue incident on - it's pretty fascinating.


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N I've received a few comments about the similarities between Sophie-Anne and Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada....yes, they are both based on the same person and the party is the same too. I've taken big artistic liberties, of course, but I'm writing from my experience with the editor in question during my time working at the Met. Sadly there was no curator Eric when I was there :(_**

**_On another note, I've worked a comment from TeaCupHuman into this chapter because it made me laugh out loud. _**

**_Lastly, a big thanks to svmaddict for your insights and thoughts on Sookie's trip to Greece!_**

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Sheets of rain nearly obscured the park views from Catherine's window. The silence that permeated the office belied the violence of the storm beyond the thick panes of glass. Catherine paced the thick carpet in front of the window with crossed arms and furrowed brow.

"I understand what you're proposing, and I think it would certainly help us establish a stronger foothold with a younger generation of people. My concern is the perception that we're adding yet another event in this economy when we've already been excoriated in the press for lavish parties."

Rather that provide a rebuttal, I sensed I should remain quiet and let her complete this mental exercise herself.

"But you've presented a thorough plan that would be cost-effective. And it _would _enable us to reach the demographic that we are most needing to cultivate." she said, thinking aloud.

She stopped pacing rather abruptly, her decision made. "Quite frankly, I don't think we can afford _not _to do this. Do you realistically think you have enough lead time to pull off a success? There is no room for failure."

I beamed inwardly, but kept my face composed in a professional expression. "There's no question that the time on this will be tight, but I wouldn't suggest it if my team couldn't execute it properly."

"Very well, Sookie. Looks like we'll have a new benefit this year." She gave me a tight smile and glanced down at her watch. I took that as my cue to leave.

"Terrific. The special events team will get working on it and I'll keep you apprised of the status." Gathering my backing materials, I moved toward the door to deliver the good news to Holly, Halleigh and Lucy.

"Oh, Sookie," she called as I was crossing the threshold. I halted and turned back to face her. "You'll need to meet with Andre to work out a media plan for this. We'll want to maximize our exposure from this."

"Of course," I said through the gritted teeth of my forced smile, berating myself for a lack of foresight. "I'll discuss it with him soon," I promised.

It had foolishly never crossed my mind that Andre would need to be involved in this, which was ironic since he'd actually been in my thoughts over the last few days. It seemed odd to me that I'd scarcely seen Andre since he last visited my office – not that I was complaining. He'd been at the last Party of the Year meeting but had kept his distance and never made eye contact with me.

Regardless of the reason, I was grateful that things had seemed to settle down on the Andre front since I'd agreed to do the _Night Out_ article and Felicia was constantly in the papers with Victor. I could only hope that the situation would remain at bay.

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It was Tuesday afternoon, but felt like it should be Friday. I'd gotten an inordinate amount of work done in the last two days, but they were dragging by. Knowing that Eric was out of town, and that I wouldn't pass him in one of the galleries, or see him in the cafeteria was deflating.

My thoughts wandered back to Saturday night's flirtatious pool game as I looked over my to do list. The ringing of the phone snapped me out of my reverie. Glancing at caller id, I recognized the number as originating from the _Stila_ offices.

"This is Sookie," I said, my pen at the ready to take notes.

"Sookie, it's Pamela. I emailed you the contact info for No Doubt's manager. Did you get it?" Her voice was always a mix professionalism with a dash of blasé world weariness.

I clicked on my inbox and saw a new message from Pamela. "Yep, it's here. I haven't opened it yet though."

"I just wanted to make sure it went through. Also, I messengered four advance issues of _Stila_ to you. Will you distribute copies to Eric, Felicia and Lorena?"

I tapped the point of my pen on the paper and hesitated a moment before answering in a less than convincing voice. "Ah…sure. No problem." I did not relish the idea of the magazines being within the walls of the museum and I certainly did not want to be responsible for distributing them.

Pamela's throaty chuckle issued through the earpiece. "Is somebody not excited about being in the spotlight?"

"If I remember correctly, you came down with a well-timed case of the swine flu to avoid being in it."

"I had a note from my doctor." She shot back dryly.

I rolled my eyes.

"I could feel that eye roll through the phone, Sookie."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Suck it up, Sookie."

"As if I have a choice."

"That's true. Talk to you later. Enjoy your moment in the sun." Before I could answer I heard the sound of the dial tone through the earpiece.

"Mail!" hollered a voice from the outer office. What timing. I heard a heavy thud as the mailman dropped the bundle of mail on the reception table, and the squeak of the retreating wheels of the mail cart.

"Thanks." I called back weakly.

I was alone in the office – everybody was out checking on various events around the museum. Approaching the table, I spied a thick envelope on the bottom, which surely was the package from Pamela. Ignoring the rest of the stack, I pulled it from beneath the pile and returned to my desk.

I stared at the package for a few seconds, swallowed hard, then ripped open the envelope. Angelina Jolie was staring out from the cover. Sophie-Anne didn't miss a single opportunity to promote the event. I wondered if she'd used the cover to entice Angelina to be an honorary co-chair. A little quid pro quo?

Opening to the index, I instantly found the thumbnail photo of Felicia, Lorena and me. I didn't bother reading the accompanying text - I was just looking for the page number and flipped back as soon as I'd located it.

I opened onto a photo of the three of us covering the entire right hand page. The word 'Goddesses' in an elegant font topped the left facing page with an article about the shoot and party below. I was shocked to see that I didn't look completely out of place next to Felicia and Lorena. Thanks be to hair, makeup, and, I'm sure, photo retouching.

Slowly I turned the page and winced. _Jesus, Mary and Joseph_. Photos of Eric and me – the most heated ones from the shoot – completely filled both pages. The left page was a photo of us kissing - really kissing - and the right page was a photo of us gazing deeply into each other's eyes. 'Heart and Soul' was superimposed over the two pages, as well as an annotated version of the tale of Psyche and Eros. At the very bottom of the page it informed the readers that _Metropolitan Museum of Art staffers Sookie Stackhouse, Director of Special Events and Eric Northman, Greek and Roman Art Curator are both wearing Gucci._

I laid my head down on my desk and closed my eyes. A good five minutes passed as I concentrated on breathing evenly and the sensation of the cool desk surface against my cheek. There was no point in putting this off any longer, so I finally moved. I took three interoffice mailing envelopes from the supply closet and addressed them to Lorena, Felicia, and Eric. I affixed a post-it on each magazine explaining it was an advance copy from Pamela, popped them in the envelopes and placed them in the outgoing mail basket.

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In the end, it was serendipitous that Eric was out of town for the week. The day the issue dropped, I could feel the eyes of my fellow employees trained on me and hear their whispers everywhere I went. It wasn't nearly as bad as the days in the wake of the Page Six debacle. Or maybe I was just becoming desensitized. Whichever the case, I knew that I would have been more uncomfortable if Eric were around.

Quite a few people in the museum had actually make a point of telling me they liked the photos, and I received lots of emails and phone calls from people I knew outside of the museum. Although it was embarrassing to get the attention, I preferred their direct approach to the whispers.

I wondered if Eric had seen the magazine wherever he was. I'd never fully considered that the shoot and issue would probably be even more embarrassing for him both professionally and personally. Poor guy, he was probably catching hell for it.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Rather than schedule a time to meet with Andre, I decided to take a page out of his playbook and wait for him in his office on Friday morning. I wanted to catch him off guard. Elyse from the marketing department willingly showed me into his office and directed me to a chair to wait.

"He should be in any minute. Make yourself comfortable." She smiled and returned to her office.

I glanced around his office and was immediately struck by countless photographs of Andre with….well, everyone. There were photos of Andre with Ronald Reagan, George Bush, Sr., The Pope, Barbra Streisand, Jimmy Carter, Hill and Bill, George W., Barbara Walters, Paul Anke, Star Jones. The photos went on and on. Andre was what we crassly called a starfucker at Crane Events. I'd be willing to bet he had absolutely no relationship with any of those celebs, but was eager to show how many he 'knew'. I noticed he didn't have any photos of himself with friends or family and it _almost_ made me pity him.

At the sound of footfalls in the hallway, I turned my head back toward the door and saw Andre's face blanch when he caught a glimpse of me seated in his office. He hesitated for a moment before continuing to his plush leather desk chair. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably and adjusted his tie.

"Good morning, Ms. Stackhouse. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Rather than look me in the eye, he shuffled papers on his desk and rearranged his stapler and pencil cup.

"Hello, Andre. I'm sorry to drop in unannounced, but Catherine asked that I speak with you about a media plan for a new Young Friends benefit later this year."

"Oh?" He said with raised eyebrows – quickly glancing up at me before returning his attention to a pad of paper where he began to take notes. "That sounds interesting. Please tell me more."

I laid out the basics of the event and my plans to approach Sophie-Anne to identify a sponsor. Andre nodded his head approvingly and finally looked up at me.

"This sounds very promising. I'll await further word from you on sponsors and leadership, but will be at your disposal to put together a media plan to support the event."

"Thank you, Andre." I was unable to keep a surprised tone out of my response. He was so compliant, so conciliatory. It made me a little nervous. I prepared to leave, but first had to ask, "So did you see _Stila _this week?"

"Yes. Yes, I did." He squirmed a little and didn't say anything further.

I eyed him more closely. A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. I couldn't figure out what was going on with him, but he was most certainly _not _enjoying this conversation with me. His odd behavior was inexplicable. I couldn't resist having the apparent upper hand, so continued on.

"And I assume you know the _Night Out_ piece is running this Sunday?"

Andre started to turn an unhealthy shade of grey. "Yes, I do recall that will be coming out this weekend."

"I trust that you're pleased with the exposure? That you don't need me for anything else?"

"No, no. I'm very happy with what you've already done. I understand that you crave privacy and I will ensure you have that in the future."

At that, my eyes involuntarily narrowed a bit, suspicious of the new Andre before me. "Thank you, Andre. I would appreciate that."He gave me a single nod, and shifted his eyes around the room a bit.

"Well, I've taken enough of your time, Andre. I'll be in touch with more information about the Young Friends benefit when I have it."

He gave me a tight smile and turned to his computer as I left the office. I was confused by our exchange and couldn't imagine what possibly could have precipitated his complete about face. I was pondering Andre's peculiar behavior on the elevator when the buzz of my phone made me jump. I had an incoming text message from a number I didn't recognize.

_A woman in my lecture showed me the mag_

I walked off the elevator without peeling my eyes away from the phone. I assumed this was from Eric, but I wasn't 100%. I continued to stare at the phone as though I might find more information on the screen if I looked long enough.

I responded vaguely to bait another message so I could confirm it was Eric. _Really?_

A few seconds later it buzzed in reply. _She asked for my autograph._

I stifled a laugh in an attempt to maintain some semblance of decorum as I passed some senior staff members in the hallway and nodded a polite hello.

_lol…your photo in Stila on top of a black eye. Rough week._

_You have no idea. Think I need to redeem my lunch._

_After the POY meeting Wed?_

_Yes, please._

_Done. Hang in there._

_Gotta run._

_Bye._

Making sure I'd saved Eric's cell number in my phone, I walked into the Special Events office with a grin the size of Texas on my face.

"Good morning, ladies," I practically sang. God, I was annoyingly chipper.

All three sets of eyes turned to me. Holly eyed me with suspicion, "What are you so happy about?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It's Friday. I just checked something I was dreading off my to-do list. It's finally feeling like spring outside." Eric Northman texted me two minutes ago. We're having lunch on Wednesday.

"Hey, do you all want to get out of the museum for lunch today? Blockhead's for Mexican? It'll be my treat." We needed a little bonding time as a department and this afternoon was free of events.

Not surprisingly, the suggestion was met with enthusiastic agreement, so we buckled down for the next few hours and finished out the week on a good note.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

We were a little over a month away from the Party of the Year, so the event meeting was interminably long as we covered the nitty gritty details. I'd done a lot of work already, but the meeting made me realize how much I had yet to do. I was feeling a little overwhelmed looking at the pages of notes and the length of my new to-do list.

I remained in my seat when the meeting adjourned to make sure I hadn't forgotten any salient details. I was trying to stay focused, but my attention was torn away by Eric's approach.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the edge of the table next to me. "Can I still collect on my pool winnings today?" he smirked.

"Yeah, just give me a second," I smiled, returning my attention to the epic list. Realizing after a few seconds that it was futile to think with Eric hovering, I resigned myself to the fact that I may have missed something and shoved my notes away in my event folder. "Okay, let's go."

I pushed my chair back as gracefully as I could and noticed Sophie-Anne crossing the room to us as I rose. "Sookie," she started, "What are you wearing to the benefit?"

That very thought had effectively immobilized me several times over the last few weeks. I had no idea what I would wear, or should wear, and I did not relish the prospect of shopping for a dress. I could feel the grimace spreading across my face despite my best efforts to control it.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," she continued with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Tom loved the photos and wants to dress you in Gucci for the party. You too Eric."

My amazement at the news that Tom Ford was aware of my existence was only overshadowed by my overwhelming relief that I would have professional assistance getting outfitted for the party.

"So, how does that work exactly?" I asked.

"Ask Pamela." Sophie-Anne didn't have the time or patience to explain the mechanics of 'getting dressed'. I didn't blame her. I was a pretty hopeless case sartorially speaking. Without another word she turned her back on us and left. She coolly nodded her goodbyes to the remaining people in the conference room and swept out the door with trusty Pamela in her wake, toting Sophie-Anne's personal effects. Pamela should be sainted for the things she did for that woman. Or institutionalized.

"And so it continues," Eric said, watching them trail out of the room. Turning back to me he smiled, "So, what were you thinking for lunch?"

"How about Three Guys? Sam Merlotte took me there for a reuben a couple of months ago and I've been dying to go back for another ever since."

"Sounds good," he nodded.

"If something else sounds better, just let me know. You won the bet after all, even if you didn't exactly win fair and square." I had to get my jab in.

"Nope. Reubens sound great."

The triumphant look that he wore when he won the pool game returned to his face. He ignored my jab. We rehashed the meeting on our walk to the restaurant. Eric was reassuring when I expressed my nervousness about how much still needed to be done.

"Sookie, it's all going to happen. Don't worry. I'm sure you'll stress until the event's over anyway, but from my perspective – and the perspective of the Greek and Roman Department – things are in good shape."

I grumbled a little, "Well, I'm glad you think so."

"Hey," he said gently grabbing my upper arm to get my attention. I looked up at him. "It'll be fine. And I'm around to help you out however I can."

"I know. Thanks." I gave him a weak smile. It had been a long time since I'd been nervous about an event, and I didn't like other people to know when I was. I kicked myself for letting Eric see that – I wanted to project confidence.

It was nearly 1:30 when we arrived at the restaurant, so the lunch rush had already subsided and we quickly were seated. We'd just ordered, when I heard a familiar voice.

"Glad to see you made it back to this fine establishment, Sookie." It was Sam sporting a big smile at the sight of me and Eric together at the table. "Hello, Northman."

"Hi, Sam," I smiled brightly. "I had to come back for another reuben."

"Ah, yes. I told you they were the best. Irresistible even." He waggled his eyebrows. "Say, Sookie. I have something for you in my office. If you get a chance, swing by later."

"Okay. I'll do that." I gave him a little wave as he made his way to the door.

"He sure has taken a shine to you," Eric said as he mindlessly stirred his coke with a straw. "Not a bad person to have on your side. He's getting up there in the years, but he's still well connected with the police department. What a character." He laughed shaking his head from side to side.

"He's been very sweet to me. I can only imagine what he's got for me." I laughed.

"There's no telling with him." He took a swig of coke. "I saw the _Night Out_ piece this weekend. It was good."

"_Oh, yes_. Thank you, Andre." I said sarcastically rolling my eyes. "It was a banner week."

Eric didn't say anything so I continued. "I met with Andre last Friday about a new benefit. It was the weirdest thing….he seemed really nervous around me, but before he'd always been kind of threatening."

"Oh?" Eric raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah." I furrowed my brow thinking about my conversation. "He apologized for inconveniencing me in the past and said he'd give me my privacy in the future."

"Good," Eric said with an approving look. "He'd better leave you alone."

I gave Eric a long look. An uneasy feeling spread through me. "Better leave me alone….or what?"

"Let's just say it's in his best interest to change his m.o."

I continued to look at Eric with a level gaze. "Or what?" I persevered.

Eric shrugged. "I'm sure he's got a skeleton or two in his closet."

I glanced around and lowered my voice. "Eric, what did you do? Did you somehow threaten Andre?"

"Let's just say Andre and I have come to an understanding."

His nonchalance was irritating me. I took a long sip of water to counteract the sudden dryness in my mouth and gave him an uncertain glance.

"Sookie. Everybody has their vulnerabilities. I dug around a little to find one of Andre's and let him know about it."

"But that's just so, so….I don't know. Gangster?" I was so taken off guard by the turn of our conversation that I couldn't come up with a better word.

"Gangster?" He laughed heartily. "You've been watching too many movies. It's no big deal."

"Yeah, right…no big deal. Well, I can take care of myself, you know," I huffed a bit.

"I know you can, Sookie." He met my eyes with a sincere look. "Remember Andre's been messing with my life for months. Involving you was the last straw."

"Oh, yeah," I replied a little sheepishly, remembering, once again, that not everything was about me. "Well, thanks, I think?"

"No problem." We ate in silence for a couple of bites.

"So what do you have on Andre, then?"

"Sookie," he reprimanded me with a smile, "I told Andre I wouldn't tell anybody what I knew as long as he left you and me alone. I'm a man of my word."

I sighed. Curiosity was killing me but I knew better than to push it. "Well, whatever it is it must be good. I thought he was going to have a stroke when I showed up in his office."

Eric chuckled, then changed the subject again. "How's the itinerary coming for your trip?"

I groaned. "I haven't done a thing and it's starting to bear down on me. I just haven't had the time to research what I want to do."

"Do you still want my help?"

"Yes," I pleaded. "_P__lease._"

"You going to Muddy's this Saturday?"

"I was planning on it."

"Good. Why don't we work on it there – you usually get there around 10:30, right?"

"Yep. Right after my portrait class. That would be _so_ great. Thank you."

The waitress dropped the padded black folder holding the bill in front of Eric.

"Oh no," he nodded his head to indicate me, "she's picking up the bill." He smiled smugly, pushed the folder across the table to me and leaned back in the booth.

I paid the bill and we headed back to the museum.

"I better go see Sam. See you Saturday if I don't run into you earlier."

"Yep, see you then. Thanks for lunch." He winked at me and was off.

I'd rarely seen anybody who could pull off a sexy wink, but Eric Northman could certainly do it. I breathed in deeply and continued to the security managers' office. Knocking on the open door, I could faintly hear Frank Sinatra playing over the small radio on the reception desk. One of the younger security managers looked up and waved me in.

"You here to see Sam?" he asked. I nodded and he jerked his thumb. "He's in the back. Go right on in - he's expecting you."

I wove my way through a maze of office chairs and around the corner of the L shaped office to see Sam sifting through an old filing cabinet. I stumbled over a chair and he jerked his head up at the sound.

"Sookie! Glad you came up." He had a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, it looks like 'Operation Northman' is rolling along according to plan?"

"Sam!" I practically hissed. I could feel my flush rising. "There are people around."

"Okay, I'll keep it down, but it's not easy for us old timers. It's cute how embarrassed you get." He lightly knocked me under the chin with his fist.

"So how _is_ it going with a certain curator?" he whispered loudly.

I closed my eyes and groaned.

"Lunch at 3 Guys? If that isn't romantic, I don't know what is." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, Sam. I lost a bet playing pool. We'd bet lunch."

"My mother always said billiards and flirting go together like PB&J." He smiled broadly and I had to laugh.

His face became very serious and he leaned in a bit. "You know he's a good guy. He's got an eye out for you, not just an eye on you."

I eyed Sam closely. I had a feeling that he was somehow involved with whatever had passed between Eric and Andre, but I sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up.

"I can see you're both still tap dancing around this whole relationship. Tap dancing is fun, but the tango is much better. Don't forget to change dances soon." He winked.

Our conversation had been largely one sided as I'd determined my silence would be preferable to any foolishness that might escape my mouth. I adored Sam, but was afraid that whatever I said would be passed along to someone else – maybe even Eric.

He slapped his hands down on his knees and made a big show of standing up. "I'll be right back young lady. Don't move." He pointed at me with a stern look on his face. With a sprightly step that was more befitting a 30 year old than a man upwards of seventy, he eased through the tangle of chairs to his desk and opened the top drawer. Retrieving a small pouch he closed the drawer with a metallic clang and headed back to me.

As he neared, he tossed it to me. I caught it in my hands and looked up questioningly.

"Go ahead, open it," he encouraged rolling his hand in a circular motion.

I fumbled a bit with the black cord, and tipped the pouch on its side. A metallic gold and enameled object about an inch long fell into my palm. I turned it over to scrutinize it. It looked like a miniature detective badge and bore the number 389.

"What is it?' I asked, puzzled.

"It's a miniature version of my detective's badge. Every cop and detective is given a precious few to distribute to family members. If you have this, active cops will extend you professional courtesy if you're ever in trouble," he explained.

I was touched even if I still didn't really understand the concept. "Thank you so much, Sam. This is really kind of you." I looked back down at the badge and ran my thumb over the tiny figures in the center, turning it from side to side in the light to get a closer look.

"So how exactly would I use it. And when?"

"Say you're pulled over by a cop for speeding. When the cop approaches the car, flash the little badge and say something like 'Excuse me officer, I should have known better since my Uncle Sam is a detective.'" Sam delivered the line in a ridiculous woman's voice that cracked me up. The thought of me flashing the little badge was just as laughable. I don't know that I would actually be able to bring myself to do it if I were in that situation.

"You know, Sam, I'm a law abiding citizen. And I never drive a car. I'd hate for you to use up a badge on me if you have a family member you could give it to."

"Nonsense. I want _you_ to have it. And you never know when you might need it, so keep it with you at all times in your pocketbook."

"Okay, I will," I laughed. "I'd better get back to work. Thank you so much for the badge. I appreciate it." I gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek and made my way back to my office.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

On Saturday morning I stuck my book on the Greek islands into my tote before heading to drawing class. My portraiture skills had improved greatly over the course of the past few weeks, and the teacher was impressed with my progress. After class he'd wanted to discuss which course I planned to take next, but I was anxious to get to Muddy's so I made my excuses and left.

Eric was seated at my usual table with a mug of coffee when I arrived. Before I could make my way back, Amelia intercepted me.

"Hello? Have things progressed without you telling me?" she grilled me in a slightly irritated tone.

"Well, good morning to you too, Amelia! How are you doing today?" I said with bright sarcasm.

"Seriously. What is going on?" she pleaded taking a different tack.

"Eric's helping me plan my trip to Greece since he's been there umpteen times." I explained. Then I patted her arm and added in a lower tone, "Nothing else has happened beyond flirtation. I'll call you later – we'll chat."

"Fine," she said, mollified enough to let me continue back to the table. "Oh," she called, "skim latte I assume?"

"Absolutely," I smiled.

I'd hoped to bring some concrete ideas with me to meet with Eric, but I simply hadn't had the time. When I reached the table, I noticed a stack of books off to one side. I angled my head to read the spines – they were all Greek travel books.

I smiled at Eric, "Hey there. Thanks for coming and bringing all those books!"

"They should be helpful for you – I've written notes in them over the last few years."

"Sorry – I'm not very prepared for this."

"Well, what are you thinking? Just in general terms."

His hair was loose and slightly tousled today, and the grey v-neck sweater enhanced his blue eyes. From across the table I could pick up the faint scent of soap and fresh laundry. Luckily, I'd spent enough time with Eric so I was fairly comfortable in these one-on-one situations. Otherwise I would have been rendered speechless by his intent look.

"I think I mentioned that I'd spent a week in Athens and a little time on Santorini a couple of years ago. I'm wanting to spend my time exploring the islands, I just don't know which ones."

"Are you looking for a beach vacation, or something more cultural?" he asked.

"Well, both, really."

Amelia dropped off my latte with a smile for us both.

"That's easy in Greece. You can't go anywhere without being completely submersed in the culture. You won't always be surrounded by ancient ruins, but they're pretty pervasive if you're interested."

"The ruins aren't so much a priority for me this time around. That was the focus of my first trip there. What are your favorite islands?"

"That's tough to say since each is so unique. You really can't go wrong. You've already been to the Cyclades since you've been to Santorini. Maybe you'd want to check out the Sporades island chain." He opened one of the books to a map of Greece and indicated a group of islands east of mainland Greece.

"Skiathos is a big draw – it's one of the islands where _Mamma Mia_ was filmed."

"Oh!" I said. "I saw that. The island looked pretty amazing. But then again, they all seem pretty amazing."

Then another thought crossed my mind. "Wait, you've seen _Mamma Mia_?" I couldn't resist teasing him. I couldn't imagine a scenario in which Eric would go see that movie.

He laughed. "I watched it with my Mom when I was home for the holidays a couple of years ago. _Anyway_, if you pick an island chain you're interested in, it's pretty easy to jump from island to island by ferry so you can explore more than one."

"I think that's what I'd want to do. I like to move around when I travel and see as much as I can." Usually I would extensively research my trips, but I didn't have that luxury. Eric's suggestion was enough for me, so I'd just go for it.

He pulled out another book and cracked it open. "I think this book has good info on the Sporades." He thumbed through it and stopped at the beginning of a section. "Yep, this is the one. This is about three years old, but I circled the places I stayed. I'd recommend any of them."

He handed the book over to me and I skimmed the page. "Is it okay if I take these home with me? It's a bit much for me to absorb all at once."

"I intended for you to take them. And take them with you on your trip too….you'll want them."

"Thanks, Eric. This is so helpful." I breathed out a sigh. I hadn't realized how stressed I was about being so up in the air over this trip.

"Hey guys!" Thalia walked up to out table, with a cup to go in hand.

"Thalia! Have a seat." I offered.

"Oooh, are you going to Greece, Sookie?" she asked.

"I'm going next month right after the Party of the Year. Eric's been nice enough to help give me some ideas."

"You'll have a fabulous time. Jess and I went to Greece and Turkey for our honeymoon."

"So where did you go?" I inquired.

"We spent a little time in Athens, then a couple of days on Spetses before taking a chartered sailboat along the coast of Turkey."

"Tell me about Spetses."

"It's a really lovely island - just a quick two hour hop by boat from Athens. It's green and lush. The cars are limited, so you get around on donkey or moped for the most part. I don't know what it was in particular, but we just fell in love with it. I highly recommend it."

Intrigued by her enthusiasm I mused, "Maybe I could spend a couple of days there before heading out to the Sporades. It would be nice to see another area of Greece."

"Yes...you could definitely do that. Are you going with a friend?"

"No, by myself."

"Oh. There's this fantastic restaurant right on the water in the harbor, very romantic. It's not to be missed, but it's not really a place you want to go alone." She sat pensively for a few moments and then her face brightened. "You'll probably be fighting the hot guys off though. I say you just plan on letting one of the nice ones take you out for dinner." She winked at me.

I laughed and noticed Eric's jaw clench. "That's not really my style, Thalia."

"That's what vacations are for - stepping outside of your comfort zone, doing something you wouldn't normally do." She looked at me and shrugged. "I'm just sayin'."

She looked down at her watch and jumped. "Crap! I'm late. Bye you two, gotta bounce." And she was out the door in no time. I jotted down Spetses on my pad of paper with a big question mark next to it before looking back to Eric.

"So, are you taking vacation anytime soon?" I asked Eric.

"I have a conference in Rome the week after the Party of the Year. I'm visiting an old college roommate in London for a couple of days after that."

I pulled my eyebrows together in thought. "I think I need a job that entails conferences in Rome."

"It's not nearly as glamorous as it sounds. We spend most of our days in meetings."

"Nothing's as glamorous as it sounds, I suppose. People always think working in special events is glamorous."

"You mean it's not?" He asked in mock surprise.

"Hardly. Of course it does have its moments. You know, with photo shoots and tastings and all." I joked. I looked down at my watch and saw it was nearly noon.

"It's getting late," I said. "I should probably get going. Thanks for your help….I'm feeling infinitely better about this."

"Good. Let me know if you have any questions once you've had a chance to look through the books."

We cleared our things off the table and I waved goodbye to Amelia before walking out the door. Eric carried the stack of books for me until the end of the block where we needed to split in our respective directions.

"Can you make it with all this stuff?" He asked.

"Yeah, I can manage. Thanks."

"Okay, then here you go." He passed the stack of books to me, and as I shifted my weight to take them, he leaned down to give me a goodbye kiss on the cheek. I kissed people in greeting or farewell all the time, but Eric hadn't fallen into that category, so it took me by surprise. It was a quick peck, but my stomach flip-flopped when his stubble grazed my cheek.

"Thanks again," I said squinting into the sun. "I'll see you later."

He didn't answer, just gave me a lopsided grin and turned to walk down the street.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_**A/N As always, thank you so much for reading, and especially to those of you who leave comments or have added this story to your favorites or alerts list - it really makes my day! **_


	13. Chapter 13

Time was flying by at an alarming pace as the Party of the Year drew nearer. I hit the ground running every Monday morning and would squeeze in as much time as I could to iron out the details for the benefit, but carving out that time was challenging with our extremely busy event schedule. Fridays seemed to come too soon. I was, of course, always grateful for the weekend breather, but I also knew we were that much closer to the event.

True to his word, Eric had been indispensible in helping me think through all the pertinent details in the Greek and Roman Court. This was his job, of course, and it was to his benefit to make sure we'd thought of everything, but I'd quickly learned that not all curators were so easy to work with.

We'd fallen into an easy pattern, usually eating lunch together once a week or so, and sharing a table at Muddy's when we were both there. At times I worried that it was becoming _too _easy – I didn't want to be his 'chum'. Although, if it was that or nothing, I would, of course, want to have him as a friend. Many times I considered making a move before the party, but the success of the event was too important to my career. I couldn't afford to jeopardize it by changing the dynamics of our relationship at this criticial time. It was only a couple more weeks. My latest mantra? _Patience is a virtue…Patience is a virtue...Patience is a virtue. _I can't say that my libido was happy about it.

I scheduled some beauty treatments for the weeks leading up to the event. Generally I was unconcerned about my appearance for an event, as long as I was at least somewhat presentable. But if I was being 'dressed' for the event I didn't want to risk being caught unprepared for a photo.

The first in my string of appointments was a midday haircut on Saturday. I'd had my final portrait class and headed over to Muddy's to kill time before my appointment. Eric wasn't there, but I noticed Thalia seated at a table by herself. She waved me over to join her.

"Hey, Sookie!" My sketchbook caught her attention. "What's that?" she asked.

"Oh, it's the sketchbook from my drawing class." I was dying to go to the bathroom, so excused myself.

"Mind if I take a look?" she asked as I was walking away.

"Oh…um, sure." Frankly, my circumstances were too dire at the moment to put up any resistance.

When I returned, Thalia was slowly turning the pages of the book, carefully inspecting each. She looked up at me with a slightly bewildered look.

"Sookie, these are amazing. You've really got talent."

I was notoriously bad at taking compliments, but tried to accept her praise as gracefully as I could. "Oh, thanks. They're just…."

She interrupted me with a mischievous spark in her eye, "I especially like this one." Opening to the drawing of Eric she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh jeez." I said, rolling my eyes. "I actually drew that before I'd even met Eric. I've drawn a lot of people here on Saturday mornings after class."

"Is that so?" She said, entirely unconvinced. "Well, it's a nice drawing."

"Thanks." I took a long sip of my latte, my mind racing for something to say to change the subject. Thalia took care of that for me though.

"Jess and I are having some friends over next Saturday for a casual cocktail party. We wanted to invite you and Amelia if you don't have plans. Amelia already said she could make it."

"I'd love to come! What can I bring?"

"Just yourself," she smiled. "It should be a good group – friends from work, a few neighbors from the building, and some of our old college friends."

"Sounds fun. Thanks so much for including me."

"Of course! I should give you a head's up - a couple of Eric's exes from college will be there."

I was about to say something about how Eric and I were just friends, but once again, she spoke first.

"I know you and Eric are _just friends_," she said with a meaningful glance, "But it's always good to know what you're walking into."

"I suppose so." This was definitely not a comfortable conversation for me. I took another long sip of my latte.

"You know, Eric has been a complete idiot when it comes to dating for as long as I've know him."

"Oh?" I strove for nonchalance in my tone and stirred my latte coolly.

"The guy is brilliant. He's achieved everything he's set his mind to academically and professionally. He's the most loyal friend I've ever had and he has a great relationship with his family. But he's had one bad relationship after another…if you'd even classify them as relationships." She was partially explaining, but mostly venting to me.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"He's never had to work for them," she said exasperated. "Women have thrown themselves at Eric for as long as I've known him. I've been on his case about it for years. He hasn't thought about what he wants or needs in a relationship or a girlfriend, he's just sort of taken up with whatever crosses his path," she practically spat.

Thalia noticed when I shifted a little uncomfortably in my seat.

"You know I'm telling you this because you _don't _fall into the category of everybody else, right?"

I just looked at her and shrugged.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't be having this conversation with you. I'm sure Eric would be _furious_ with me if he knew I'd just told you all this."

"Well, you definitely don't have to worry about me saying anything," I laughed.

"Oh, I know that," she laughed back. We drifted back to safer conversational ground, and soon it was time for me to go.

"I've got to run to get my haircut. Thanks again for inviting me to the party. What's your address and what time should I be there?"

She ripped a deposit slip out of her checkbook and gave it to me. "There's my address. It'll start around 8ish."

"Great - I'll see you then!"

"Bye, Sookie."

I rushed off to the hair salon with plenty of food for thought.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Pamela had called me Monday morning to coordinate a time for me to go with her to the Gucci studio and select a dress for the party. I was grateful that she'd be going with me, although I had a sneaking suspicion that Sophie-Anne had instructed her to ensure I would be presentable for the event.

It was now Wednesday afternoon, and I was doing my best to not knock over tourists as I tore through the Great Hall and down the stairs to meet the town car that Pamela sent for me. Jumping into the backseat of the car, I glanced down at my watch to see that I'd made up some time in my mad dash and was only a couple of minutes late.

"Ready, miss?" the driver asked.

"Yes, thanks," I panted, out of breath from my sprint.

Within ten minutes we were in front of the building where _Stila's_ offices were housed. Pamela was waiting just inside the glass doors and strode out to the car when she saw us pull up.

"Ready for this?" she smirked. She ran an eye over me and seemed satisfied. I'd worn a simple, modern tunic dress in navy and some of the least comfortable shoes I could find, hoping my outfit would pass muster.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I answered.

She chuckled at me. "Marisa from Gucci will be taking us through the racks of dresses they've preselected for us to consider," she explained. When Pamela had called me earlier this week, she'd gotten my measurements so they'd have appropriately sized dresses for me. We definitely wouldn't be fighting over the same ones.

"Pull over here….next to the fire hydrant," Pamela barked at the driver. We extricated ourselves from the car and she buzzed at an unmarked door of frosted glass. Moments later, the shadow of a woman's figure unlocked the door and pushed it open. Behind the door stood a tall, leggy brunette in a chic steel grey dress – Gucci, I presumed – and impossibly high stilettos. Her glossy hair was pulled back in a severe bun that purposely spiked out a bit. Her forehead was fringed in short, artful bangs.

"Marisa," Pamela said as they air kissed, "this is Sookie Stackhouse from the Met."

"Sookie, so nice to meet you," she said with a practiced coo and shook my hand warmly. "Please come in." We followed her down a long hall illuminated by glowing modern light fixtures. Marisa led us to a door that opened onto a sleekly spare hexagonal room that was largely mirrored and empty save for a couple of chairs, a pedestal and two rolling racks of dresses.

"We've pulled dresses in your sizes that we think would best suit your respective silhouettes. See which ones most interest you and we'll get to work."

Trying on dresses was clearly going to be a group activity. I crossed the room to the rack that held the shorter dresses, which I assumed were for me. Each dress was more beautiful than the next – I didn't know where to begin. Pamela appeared by my side and helped me sort through the dresses on my rack. Within a couple of minutes she had moved four to the end of the rack.

"Start with those. The soft greys would be just right for your coloring."

I'd always been modest and wasn't thrilled at the prospect of peeling out of my clothes while Pamela and Marisa were in the room too. I figured I could at least get into the first dress while they were occupied with the other rack of dresses. I tugged my dress over my head and quickly stepped into the first dress, unhooking my bra and sliding it off just before I was ready to zip it up. I twisted my arm back in an impossible position in an attempt to grab the zipper tab, but the angle wasn't working for me.

"Sookie, let me help." Marisa was over in an instant and zipped it up into place. I smoothed down the fabric and straightened my posture to look into one of the many mirrors and cocked my head to the side a bit to take in the dress. It was strapless, and while not draped, the fabric was rippled in a structural way to suggest draping. It was a beautiful dress, but I wasn't feeling it.

"Try this one," Marisa held up a one-shouldered gown in a warmer grey color. "It's one of my favorites."

She unzipped the dress for me and I shimmied out of it and into the second gown. I loved it before I even looked in the mirror – it just felt right. The skirt formed a trim column that ended right at the floor. It was studded with small square pieces of some indeterminate material that fit together almost like a sheet of thin tiles and gave off a soft, subtle sheen. The weight of the pieces molded the skirt perfectly to the curve of my hips. Two sweeps of fabric trimly crossed the torso to form the bodice, creating a neckline that gently dipped into a slight sweetheart shape. One of the sweeps of fabric continued up and over the left shoulder in a band of sheerer material. The dress was sleek, understated and sophisticated. Most importantly, I felt completely comfortable in it.

"That's really nice on you, Sookie." Pamela commented.

"I love it. As long as you think it's appropriate, I don't need to look any further."

"Absolutely appropriate."

I sighed with relief.

"Marisa, what do you think?" Pamela asked. "Put Sookie's hair in a loose bun, simple diamond earrings and a diamond cuff? Oh, and some strappy heels in pewter or silver?"

"Exactly," agreed Marisa. She turned an appraising eye back on me in the dress. "The fit is perfect, we don't even need to hem it."

"Great!" I said. "That was the least painful dress search I've ever had." Searching through a rack of designer dresses in your size pulled especially for you had its advantages – I'd be spoiled for the rest of my days. I pulled my clothes back on then carefully returned the dress on the rack.

Before long, Pamela had decided on her dress too and we were in the car on our way back to our respective offices. Marisa was going to have the dresses cleaned, steamed, and sent to us the week of the event. Pamela had some jewelry for me as well as a couple of pairs of shoes in _Stila's _'closet' that she thought would work. She was going to messenger them up to me. Another load was lifted from my shoulders. It was the first time in my career I was excited about what I'd be wearing for an event.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The rest of the week melted away and before I knew it, it was Saturday. My day had been booked up with facial and body scrub appointments as well as some errands to prepare for my trip to Greece.

I was putting the finishing touches on my hair when I heard a "Knock, knock!" from the living room.

"Back here!" I yelled to Amelia.

A few seconds later her bright face was hovering over my shoulder in the mirror.

"Cute dress!" she said in a surprised tone.

"Oh, thanks. I just got it a couple of weeks ago."

She looked more closely at the dress – it was chicly casual – a loose fitting boat neck mini dress in a deep teal silk. "I really like it. Jesus, you're skin is glowing. What gives?"

I laughed. "Thanks. I had a day of beauty at the spa. Trying to get prepped for the benefit at work you know."

"Mmmhmmm." She said with narrowed eyes. "So, I suppose Eric will be at the party tonight."

A nervous flutter shot through my stomach. "Of course he will. Jess and Thalia are two of his best friends."

"Oh good! If the party's a snooze fest I can watch you two pretend that you don't want to jump each other's bones. It's highly entertaining, you know."

I rolled my eyes and looked down at my watch. It was just eight o'clock and I didn't wanted to arrive until things had gotten rolling.

"Do you want a glass of wine or a something?" I offered.

"Ooooh, yes. I'd love a gin and tonic."

"I'll fix them – you put on some music."

I brought the drinks into the living room and sank down into a chair.

"So what's been going on with you? I feel like we haven't really talked in a couple of weeks." I asked.

"Oh nothing. The play wrapped up, I've had a couple of auditions, the usual. I was sick with some virus for a little bit, but I'm fine now. Just finished up my prescription today."

"Are you sure you can drink with the pills?" I asked a little concerned.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm fine. It's probably already out of my system."

"Well, why don't you take it easy tonight, okay?"

"Sure, Mom."

There was no use fighting with her, so I just changed the subject. I would keep a close eye on her tonight though. Around 8:30 we left for the quick walk to the party.

The dull roar of the party could be heard as soon as we got off the elevator. Thalia answered the door just a few seconds after I'd knocked. We were hit by a wall of hot air that smelled like every party I'd ever attended – a combination of wine, puff pastry and a cocktail of perfumes. I passed Thalia a bottle of wine and some flowers, and she in turn, handed us glasses of wine and introduced us to the guests closest to the door.

I was chatting with Thalia's next door neighbors about green roofs when I caught Eric's eye from across the room. I gave him a little smile and continued the conversation, but had a hard time maintaining an interest in the differences between intensive and extensive roof systems. I began working my way with Amelia conversationally across the room. I'd come to the end of Thalia's neighbors who were all grouped closest to the door and moved into the grouping of her co-workers.

Progress across the room to Eric was excruciatingly slow. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't keep my eyes from flicking to him from time to time. Every time I looked, he seemed to catch me. Finally, we reached the far side of the room, filled with Thalia, Jess and Eric's friends from school.

We were nearly to Eric when a rough voice offered, "Hi, I'm Kara." I turned to see a pretty redhead with a riot of freckles across her face and sea green eyes.

"Hi, I'm Sookie and this is Amelia."

"Jeez, Sookie. I can speak for myself," said Amelia in a belligerent tone. I detected the beginning of a slur and noticed she was swaying a bit. She turned and dramatically announced to Kara, "Well, I guess you already know, but I'm Amelia."

Kara laughed. "So, how do you know Thalia and Jess? Co-workers?"

"No, no. I met them through Eric." I said quickly before Amelia could say anything.

At the mention of Eric, Kara's eyebrows raised. "Oh? Are you and Eric an item?"

I shook my head. "We work together. And live in the same neighborhood."

"Ah," she nodded. "Eric's got a history with some of the ladies here – myself included. I mean, water under the bridge and all. It was college. And it was a long time ago." She waved a hand to indicate just how long ago and I noticed her wedding ring.

I shrugged, "I guess everybody's got a history, right?"

Again, she laughed, "True. So true."

"Hey there."

"Well, speak of the devil," Kate rasped.

"Eric!" Amelia drunkenly threw her arms around him in a hug.

He shot me a look with a raised eyebrow. "Do you want to sit? There's an empty ottoman over here."

I gave him a grateful smile and guided Amelia over to the ottoman and deposited her. Kara joined her and they struck of a conversation about theater – apparently Kate had majored in drama. I snagged a bottle of water for Amelia and stayed close by to keep an eye on her.

"What got into her?" asked Eric.

"Prescription meds. She thought they were out of her system, but clearly they weren't. I think we should probably leave before too long."

Eric pressed his lips together and nodded in agreement then took a swig of beer. "Did you finalize everything for your trip?"

I could feel my face brighten with excitement. "Yes! The books and especially your notes were really helpful."

"So what did you finally decide?"

"I'm going to Spetses straight away and will stay there a couple of days. I _had _to go after Thalia's recommendation. Then on Tuesday I head back to Athens and take a boat to Skiathos. I'm booked at the um…" I snapped my fingers searching my mind for the name.

"Atrium Hotel?"

"Yes! That's it. Your notes in the book sold me on it."

"I've stayed there three times. You'll really like it. At least I hope you will. The people who run it are very personable and they'll help you make any arrangements you need."

"Right now I'm booked there for the rest of my trip, but I'm keeping it loose so I can change plans and jump around if the mood strikes. I tend to do that when I travel."

We rejoined the conversation with Kara and Amelia who was now listing to the side a bit. Some more of their college friends had joined the group too. "Okay, so I know dating can be hell in the city," Kara announced in a loud, slightly drunk voice to Amelia, "but I'm a _really_ great matchmaker. Tell me what you're looking for and I'll find the perfect guy for you."

Amelia's eyes narrowed to slits as she thought hard on her answer. "Hmmm. Somebody artsy and free-spirited. But with a good job and their own apartment…no roommates. Oh, and no cats."

That combination was going to be a tall order to fill in the city, and I laughed along with everybody else.

"What about you, Sookie?" Kara asked, turning the attention of the group to me.

I groaned internally. I was asked this at nearly every party I went to. Why must married people torture singles like this? And why in front of Eric? I pulled out the standard response I'd developed a couple of years ago.

I shrugged, "I suppose I'm just looking for somebody who will take the aisle seat so I can have the window, and the vanilla side of a black and white cookie so I can have the chocolate half."

"Don't forget tall and bl…" piped up Amelia drunkenly.

Lord help me, I stepped on her foot as hard as I could. I would have kicked her in the shin if it wouldn't have been so noticeable.

"Shit, Sookie!"

"Oh gosh, Amelia! I'm sorry – I didn't know your foot was right there."

She stood up indignantly and began to sway.

"All right, sweetie…time for us to go," I said putting my arm around her back to guide her to the door. "Nice to meet you all," I waved all around.

Amelia just mumbled goodbye. She needed to go to sleep stat.

I smiled at Eric, "See you next week."

"Do you need help getting her home?"

_Patience is a virtue….Patience is a virtue._ "No, I'll be okay…it's not far. Thanks, though."

"Alright," he said unconvinced. "See you next week then."

We wove our way through the crowd and said our thank you's to Jess and Thalia on the way out. Although it was just a few short blocks back to Amelia's, I hailed a cab. Getting her into her apartment and into bed took some doing, but at last she was fast asleep. I locked up and left. It was a beautiful, clear evening so I happily strolled the ten blocks back to my apartment. As much as I would have liked to stay longer at the party, I'd definitely be better off getting to bed on the earlier side.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Jean-Luc called me in a panic Thursday afternoon. "Sookie! The wine distributor doesn't have enough of the white Sophie-Anne approved for the cocktail reception. I've found a comparable replacement, but I want to send you a bottle for your blessing."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, but send it over and I'll be happy to try it."

"Merci. I'll send it by messenger now. If you can let me know by first thing tomorrow morning so we can get it ordered."

"Will do. Thanks for being on top of this." He was so thorough and conscientious – one of the many reasons I loved working with him. That, and of course his dreamy food.

The bottle arrived just a little after five. I stashed the chilled bottle in my tote – I'd sample it at home instead of the office. I was sneaking out a little early today with the intention of walking through the park so I could enjoy the cherry trees in full bloom. The bridle path that circled the reservoir was lined with cherry trees and absolutely magnificent this time of year. I hadn't had a chance to see them yet, despite the fact it was just a three minute walk from my apartment, and I feared if I didn't see them now I'd completely miss them.

I put on my iPod and entered the park – it was a picture perfect spring day. The leaves on the trees had popped out just three weeks earlier and still were a fresh and tender, yellow-green color. Spring flowers were in bloom and everybody seemed a little giddy to finally be experiencing warm temperatures.

Enjoying the free afternoon, I walked at a leisurely to the bridle path and followed it in a clockwise direction until I came upon the stand of cherry trees just west of the reservoir. The trees, planted decades ago, formed a veritable tunnel with a rambling pathway underneath. The branches had exploded in a show of pink blossoms and enough petals has fallen that the ground was carpeted in a drift of soft pink. My heart leapt at the sight – experiencing the cherry blossoms had become one of my favorite rituals. The fleeting nature of the display made it that much more special.

I found a grassy spot in the sun between a few trees and sat on my trench coat to soak in the late afternoon sun. Between the sun, the music and a slight breeze, I was completely relaxed and on the verge of dozing off when I realized the sun was no longer warming my skin. My eyes snapped open and I saw I was in the shadow of somebody standing behind me. Craning my neck backwards, I was surprised to see Eric, iPod in hand and messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His hair backlit almost like a halo. He was obviously walking home from work too.

"Sorry to interrupt…you looked so peaceful. I don't think I've ever seen you sit in one place for long."

"I guess it doesn't happen often, but I do have my moments of downtime," I smiled. I took in a breath to summon a little courage. "Care to join me?" I asked.

Without answering he took a seat on the grass about three feet away from me. He glanced down at the bottleneck peeking out of the top of my bag.

"Pilfering wine from the museum?"

"Oh shoot. I forgot about the wine." Beads of sweat were running down the walls of the bottle – I'd need to re-chill it if I didn't taste it soon so I could sample it at the appropriate temperature. "I'm supposed to taste it for Jean-Luc."

Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army knife with a corkscrew on it. "We can't have you shirking your responsibilities now, can we?"

I smiled and pulled the bottle from the bag and handed it to Eric. "I'll let you do the honors."

He made quick work of uncorking it and handed it back to me.

"Thanks. I'm pretty sure this isn't what Jean-Luc had in mind when he sent this to me, but here goes." I tipped it back for a taste. Seemed good to me. It would be just fine for the reception. I passed it back to Eric. "I could use a second opinion."

He took a drink and nodded in agreement. "In my very unprofessional opinion, I'd say it'll do."

I glanced at his bag. "I can't believe you don't have pop-up drinking cups in your bag to go along with that camping knife." I shook my head in disappointment and took another swig. Eric shrugged and took the bottle back from me.

"My Boy Scout training didn't cover being prepared to drink wine in the park after stumbling across a beautiful woman."

A thrill ran through me at his words and I reached again for the bottle.

"Boy Scout, eh?"

"Actually, Eagle Scout."

I suppressed a giggle that was threatening to escape imagining Eric in a Boy Scout uniform. The wine must have been going straight to my head.

"Hey, I grew up in the middle of nowhere Vermont. We hiked and camped." He offered in explanation.

"No, that's impressive. I had a friend in college who was an Eagle Scout. I know it takes a lot of dedication to achieve that."

"Well, it's not just pitching tents and the Pinewood Derby." I detected a hint of exasperation in his voice.

I pursed my lips, closed my eyes, and covered my hand with my fisted hand. My chest heaved with the effort it took to not laugh. I really, _really_ fought it, but there was just no controlling it after his last comment. Once the first giggle erupted there was no holding back. I had tears streaming from the corners of my eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I said, fanning myself in an attempt to regain my composure, but another peal of laughter escaped.

Eric rolled his eyes at me and shook his head, knocking back another drink from the bottle.

"Okay, okay. I'm done laughing. I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me." I apologized.

"This from the woman whose required credentials for a boyfriend are a preference for aisle seats and a penchant for the vanilla side of a black and white cookie?"

Whoa. That was a little out of left field. I looked up, relieved to see that he was smiling. "Hey, do you know how often you get that question when you're a 32 year old single woman? I learned a while ago to try to please the crowd with my answer."

"Oh, so it's part of your comedy routine?" he laughed.

I squinted one eye and bit my lip as though in deep thought. "I suppose you could say that."

"Okay. So drop the act and your rehearsed material. Tell me what you're looking for."

The directness of his question took me off guard. I drew in a deep breath and held it, deliberating whether I should mirror the frankness of his question with my answer. We'd been toeing a line for a while now, and he'd just dared me to take a step over.

"Of course I want what everybody wants – you know someone kind, thoughtful, and such - but I don't keep a laundry list of qualities." I absentmindedly picked a blade of grass and twirled it in my fingers. "Have you read _Where The Wild Things Are _to your nephews?"

He nodded smiling, but I could see the quizzical look in his eye wondering where I was going with this. I slugged back some more wine before continuing.

"At one point, Max is in the forest, alone, and he realizes he wants to go back where someone loves him best of all."

I was on the verge of continuing my explanation, but from out of nowhere a wave of cold grief seized me. My chest tightened and I breathed in a sharp breath. Tears flooded my eyes and my chin began to quiver. Embarrassed by my burst of emotion, I diverted my eyes to the piece of grass between my fingers and watched intently as it spun around. My throat ached with the supreme effort I was exerting to keep a sob from escaping and I pressed my lips together.

My adult life was carefully designed to avoid the pain of loss I'd experienced as a child. My Gran had seen to it that I'd never want for love. She loved Jason and me fiercely – of that we had no doubt. But for everything she was, she couldn't be my mother and father. Nobody could.

I'd made a beautiful life for myself. I had a dream job in an exciting city, wonderful friends, I'd been able to see a good part of the world, I was engaged with life. But the constructs of my life created a ring, not a circle. In the middle of the ring I was alone with ghosts and faint memories.

I ventured a look up at Eric and used my index finger to neatly wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes. "I'm sorry," I said shaking my head.

He reached out and enfolded my left hand between his two hands. After a minute he said quietly, "Tell me about your parents."

I looked at him and tears sprung back to my eyes at his question. I was surprised that he seemed to understand, at least partially, what was at the root of my emotion. I took a minute to regain a bit of my composure before speaking.

"I don't remember much anymore – my memory is fading. I'm not sure what's real and what I've made up in my mind." I took a deep quavering breath. "There's no one I can ask anymore."

He waited patiently for a minute stroking my palm with his thumb. "Just tell me something you remember."

"Well, they were just crazy about each other. My mom would always say to me, 'You're daddy's the most handsome, smartest, fastest man in town.'"

"Fastest?" Eric laughed.

"I know, that's weird, right?" I laughed and brushed away more tears. "There's got to be more to it than that – I just don't remember…or never knew. Or maybe I'm just not remembering correctly. It feels like I'm trying to remember a dream sometimes – things get confused and don't make sense."

"What about your dad?"

"He worked a lot, but he always made a point to be home in time to read to me at night and tuck me in."

We talked about memories of my parents and my Gran for nearly an hour. I'd never really talked to anybody about my parents much except Gran. My friends in Bon Temps had always seemed afraid to talk about them, going to great lengths to circumvent the topic. When I left Bon Temps, I'd just give my friends the cut and dried story of their death. I'd get a sympathetic pat and an "I'm so sorry" before the topic was changed to something more palatable. It was fine. I didn't really want to talk to them about it either.

After a while my mood had lightened and I'd taken my hand back from Eric. I was recounting the story of trying to sneak back into the house while evading the detection of Gran's bridge group when I was interrupted by a thick Brooklyn accent.

"Is that wine you've got in that bottle?" I looked up to see a police officer standing arms akimbo about five feet away, glanced down to the half empty bottle, then up to Eric wide eyed.

"Yes, it is officer," said Eric without hesitation.

"That's a violation of New York City's open container law. I'm gonna need to write you a ticket," he said removing the battered ticket book from his back pocket.

Eric looked as thought he was going to say something, but I silenced him with a look and dug my wallet from my purse and pulled the badge from Sam out of my coin purse.

I held the mini badge conspicuously in my hand on my lap, feeling a little nervous and a little ridiculous by what I was about to attempt. "I'm sorry officer, I should have known better, my Uncle Sam is a detective with the police department. I guess I got confused since wine seems to be allowed at the summer concerts on the Great Lawn."

The officer's eyes flicked down to the badge and a weary look flashed over his face. I awaited his sentencing with bated breath. After a few seconds of an unreadable look, he snapped the book closed and returned it to his back pocket, unsmiling.

"Alright," he said in a begrudging tone, "but don't let me catch you out here with an open container again. I'm going to have to ask you to pour it out and dispose of the bottle."

"Of course," I said. "Thank you so much. It won't happen again." I moved to stand, but Eric stopped me.

"I got it." He took the bottle over to a nearby grate and dumped the remaining wine and tossed the bottle in a trashcan. I gathered my things and stashed my iPod in my purse and picked up Eric's bag and iPod. Satisfied that we were done breaking the law, the officer left.

"Your Uncle Sam?" Eric laughed. "Would that be Sam Merlotte?"

"Who else could it possibly be?" I giggled. "Good thing he gave me that badge, huh? I _never_ dreamed I'd actually need it." Eric took his things from me and we walked toward the edge of the park to head home.

"Hold onto that thing. It's worth its weight in gold."

"Yeah, no kidding."

We reached Central Park West where we'd go our separate ways. I turned to Eric and swallowed. "Thank you," I said simply. I didn't need to expound. He knew what I was thanking him for.

"Thanks for sharing with me."

I stretched my arms and took a step forward to hug him. Eric pulled me to him and held me tight. I closed my eyes and let comfort and relief roll over me. He gave me a little squeeze before releasing me.

"Good night, Eric."

"Good night." He smiled and walked a couple of steps backwards before turning down the street to his apartment.

I felt totally drained when I got back to my apartment - a combination of the wine and my emotional outburst. Without energy to do more, I dug some leftovers out of the fridge, but didn't have much of an appetite.

Before long I conceded to the call of my bed, snuggling down into the covers. Talking with Eric had been cathartic, but left me emotionally raw too. I would never stop mourning the loss of my parents, of my Gran, and even of my estranged brother. I carried no illusions, however, that I was unique. Everybody experiences pain and heartbreak to varying degrees – pain is relative.

I had to embrace the loss and recognize its significance rather than work so hard to suppress it. Whether it was purposeful or not, Eric helped me to take an important step to refocus my thoughts on the memories I held of my family as opposed to their absence. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks, dampening my pillowcase, but I easily drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I worked as efficiently as I could that last Friday before the Party of the Year, closing the loop on a number of dangling details. My goal was to finish in time to still make it to the group home to volunteer since I'd be missing the next couple of weeks while in Greece. I planned on coming into the office over the weekend to work on sundry items like schedules and memos to the various departments so I'd be in good shape come Monday.

Our entire department met with the Development staff late Friday afternoon to go through the seating schedule for the following week. It was a complicated process that would be accomplished through a series of meetings in the _Stila_ offices every evening next week leading up to Thursday. I glanced down at my watch to see I was late to leave for volunteering. At long last the meeting broke and I dashed down to my office to grab my bags and back out the door to the elevator. I impatiently tapped my foot waiting for the elevator.

By the time the elevator came, a crowd was waiting too. They slowly filed on the elevator after me. My blackberry buzzed with an influx of messages. I scrolled through the inbox and zeroed in on one from Eric.

_4:55 Eric Northman Missing your iPod?_

I clicked on it and quickly read through the message.

_Seems we got our iPods mixed up last night. You've got a good music selection, but it's a little heavy on the female side. I took the liberty of adding a few songs – it's in the top drawer of your desk._

_-Eric_

_P.S._ _Barry Manilow but no Bruce Springsteen? Sookie…that's criminal._

"Excuse me, sorry – I need to get off." I pushed my way through the crowded elevator and stuck my arm in the door just as it was closing. I could hear the grumbling of the people left in my wake. Running down the hallway, I rounded the corner into the department office. My bag slammed into the door as I passed. I tore the drawer open and smiled when I saw my iPod inside. Clutching it in hand, I ran back to the elevator bank just as a car opened.

I jumped on, breathing heavily from my sprint, and only then looked down at it. Clicking on the trackwheel, I navigated to the playlists. I smiled when I saw one had been added entitled 'For Sookie'. It was tempting to scroll through the songs on the list, but I decided to stow it in my bag for later. In just a couple of hours I'd see what he thought my music selection was lacking besides Springsteen. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say he listened to the classics – The Stones, Clapton, maybe Dylan.

After volunteering I returned home for a relaxing evening in. I docked my iPod in the speaker system and hit play, curling up on the couch with dinner and a glass of red wine. Elvis Costello was first up – a good start in my opinion. I found myself smiling through every song, and anxiously awaiting to see what would be next. My heart began to race at the overall theme that seemed to be emerging. Then I laughed out loud. Did Eric declare his feelings for me….in a _playlist_? It felt like high school and mix tapes all over again.

I listened through the playlist two more times, obsessing over every song – analyzing each lyric. I felt so giddy it seemed as though my chest would split in two. Most of the songs were familiar to me; a couple had even been favorites at one point in my life.

Two could play this game. I certainly couldn't let this go unanswered. Both nervous and excited at the prospect, I pulled out my laptop to start. For nearly two hours I worked on the list and finally had at least a respectable start. I had a couple of days to tinker with it before returning the iPod to Eric on Monday.

Before shutting down my computer, I dashed off an email to Eric.

_Eric,_

_Thanks for returning my iPod with new and improved music – I like the song selection. I'll return the favor on Monday._

_Sookie _

_P.S. Back off Barry…..my relationship with him dates back to the 8-track._

I fell asleep with the playlist on repeat.

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I spent more time agonizing over the playlist that weekend than I should have. I edited and reedited - adding songs, pulling them off, then adding them again. I rearranged the order of the songs. I'd like a version of the list, then I'd second guess myself. I made myself crazy.

I was definitely overthinking the whole thing, but that stupid playlist seemed to become crucially important. I made a second, 'safer' version of the list. In the end, I decided the time for being tentative had passed, and went for the gutsier of the two choices. I took a deep breath and loaded it onto Eric's iPod.

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At the end of the day Monday I found my way back to the Greek and Roman offices.

"Hey Sookie, what brings you back to our little corner of the museum?" asked Gary.

"Oh, um….I needed to return Eric's iPod. Is he here?" I asked.

"No, he left early for the day. I'll make sure he gets it though." I breathed a small sigh of relief that he wasn't there.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." I handed the iPod to him and scooted back to my office to collect my things for the first seating meeting at _Stila_.

Before leaving I sent Eric an email.

_Eric,_

_I left your iPod with Gary. Female singers have been added as needed._

_Sookie_

I couldn't come up with a wittier email in my present state of mind, and was under the gun to get to the meeting, so took a deep breath and pressed send. Now I'd sit back and see what Eric's next move would be. This was _so_ not how I should be expending my mental energy this week. The best laid plans often go astray, I suppose.

I was a bundle of nerves and not on top of my game like I needed to be for the meeting with Sophie-Anne. Fortunately the meeting went smoother than I'd expected it to be. I was lucky to emerge unscathed, but I needed to be better prepared mentally for Tuesday's meeting.

I got in early Tuesday morning to try to get a jump on the day, but my phone was already ringing off the hook. Between calls I noticed an email had come in from Eric.

_Sookie,_

_iPod received - very interesting playlist. Perhaps we should discuss our song selections?_

_- Eric_

I rubbed my forehead in frustration. There was simply no way I could do this until after the party.

_Eric,_

_Agreed. How about Friday? I think we're both a little busy until then…._

_Sookie_

I received a message back instantly:

_Friday it is._

_-Eric_

**_A/N So....playlist confessionals? Really? I don't know, do you think it's kind of great or too corny for words? I was always a sucker for a mix tape. Obviously._**

**_They worked really hard on those playlists - you can check them out at www dot 8tracks dot com ....enter Pfloogs72 and they should both pop up. I've also posted the link to both on my profile page. Also posted on the profile page is a link to the cherry blossoms in the park and a photo of Sookie's dress for the party._**

**_If playlists aren't your thing or you're a big fan of Cliff Notes and want the abridged version, then on the playlist for Sookie just listen to 1) I Don't Want To Lose You Yet and 2) 40 Dogs. On the playlist for Eric try the last two 1) The Story and 2) Mountain and the Sea_**

**_As always, thanks for reading....and for reviewing!!_**


	14. Chapter 14

**a/n So, it's been a while since the last update. BUT, do you know what tonight it? Yes, it's the _real_ Party of the Year. I didn't plan that out - honest. **

I nervously chewed my bottom lip and shifted my weight from foot to foot while I waited in the Greek and Roman Court Tuesday morning. I was the first to arrive for our final production walk-through before the event. My nerves had nothing to do with the work at hand, and everything to do with seeing Eric for the first time after laying it on the line with my playlist. I was studying my to-do list when I felt the warmth of a large hand on my shoulder.

Turning expectantly, my heart in my throat, I knew my face fell a little when I saw the person attached to the hand.

"Oh, hey Quinn." I attempted to summon enthusiasm I didn't feel.

"Hi _Sookie_," he said proudly, as though he'd been practicing saying my name all morning. I was thankful he didn't call me Babe, but it didn't seem like reason to celebrate.

"You're looking good. I'd say your new life is agreeing with you," said Quinn.

Although we'd seen each other at meetings, we hadn't had much opportunity to talk since I'd moved to the museum.

"Thanks, Quinn. Things are pretty good for me right now. How about you?"

"Aw, you know. Not much changes for me." He looked thoughtful for a moment and continued with a slight shrug of the shoulders. "I miss you, Sookie. You were good for me." His disposition was sunny as ever, but a hint of sadness around his eyes went straight to my heart.

"You'll find the right person for you, Quinn." I said. And I meant it. He was a good guy who deserved to have somebody in his life. I turned at the sound of footsteps approaching. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I caught sight of Eric followed by Gary.

"Your hair!" I gasped in shocked disbelief.

Eric smiled and ran a hand through his much shorter hair and shrugged. "It was time for a change."

"It looks…nice. It…just surprised me," I said haltingly. At least I'd been shocked out of my previous nervousness. I busied myself looking through the Court for the rest of our group in hopes that my wistfulness over Eric's departed hair would go unnoticed. Don't get me wrong, he was as handsome as ever, but I'd had plans for that hair…of the running my fingers through it variety.

I sighed, then caught a glimpse of No Doubt's tour manager, Marty, and waved him over. Vinnie the electrician materialized out of the crowd, as did Jean-Luc and Lafayette. Finally Sam came strolling up to represent security. "Good morning lady and gents," he announced in a courtly voice accompanied by a salute.

Everybody being present and accounted for, I made introductions all around, then passed out the finalized floorplan and production schedule. We ran through the schedule to make sure everybody was clear on the sequence for the equipment load-in and timing for sound check. Things ran smoothly until Marty threw in a bit of a meatball.

Tipping his head to the side with a thoughtful look on his face, he asked, "Did I mention we need a place for Gavin and the boys?"

I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. "Ah….no, you hadn't mentioned that. What exactly do they need?" I clicked my pen to take notes. Of course I'd need to do anything I could to accommodate Gwen Stefani's family.

"Nothing much, just a place where they can hang out for the evening away from the crowd. It should have a t.v. and kid-friendly food and drinks. Oh, it would be good to have a babysitter in case Gavin wants to watch the show and the boys don't." All information that would have been useful to have _last week_.

I jotted notes and maintained a calm exterior. "That shouldn't be a problem. Could we just expand the band's green room?"

Marty shook his head no.

"Okay…" I tapped my pen on my bottom lip thinking of a solution, "What about my office? I've got a t.v."

"Is it close?"

I shook my head no.

"Needs to be close." Marty said.

"I'll check with the Islamic Department to see if we can use one of their galleries directly above here. One way or another we'll figure it out and I'll let you know."

He nodded in agreement and we moved on. Our large group slowly maneuvered through the galleries clogged with museum visitors to the proposed greenroom location just off the balcony of the Court. On the way I shot an email off to a potential babysitter and then one to the Chair of the Islamic Department.

I caught up with Vinnie on the stairs. "Vinnie, assuming we get permission to use one of the Islamic Galleries, could you set up the t.v. and dvd player from my office in there?"

"No problem."

"Thanks, you're a doll."

Next I fell in step with Jean-Luc. Before the question was out of my mouth, he said in his charming French accent, "How about macaroni and cheese for the boys and mini burgers? And of course those dreadful little juice boxes American kids like so much?"

"Perfect. Thank you." I said gratefully.

My blackberry buzzed with new email notifications. I glanced down to see we had permission to use the Islamic Gallery closest to the Court, and I'd heard back from the babysitter. We were a go on all counts.

Marty inspected the greenroom location for the band with his fists in his pockets, rocking on his heels. I held my breath momentarily until he slightly nodded his head indicating he was sufficiently pleased.

"I believe we're all set on arrangements for Gwen's family too. Let me show you the space while we're here." We walked the short distance to the Islamic Gallery.

"I've got a Red Cross certified babysitter with references booked, Jean-Luc will provide mac and cheese and burgers for the boys and we'll have a television and dvd player hooked up. And, of course, we'll have chairs and tables brought in. Restrooms are just down the hall."

"That'll work," clipped Marty

I sighed with relief and said a prayer of thanks for modern technology. We made our way back down to the Court. On the way Eric caught up with me and discreetly gave my upper arm a gentle squeeze. I looked up and he gave a little smile that raised a flutter in my stomach. "Impressive," he said quietly.

I shook my head and gave a weak laugh. The next three days would be full of nothing but putting out little fires like that. The week was already wearing me down, but the anticipation of the party itself, and especially the chance to move things to the next level with Eric, buoyed me up.

We all wrapped up a few last items in the Court before I broke the meeting up. "Thank you all so much for your time today. I'll see you again tomorrow for load-in. Marty and I need to go over some more details in my office, but if anything comes up, don't hesitate to let me know." My eyes flicked to Eric and I gave him a little half smile in farewell before turning to head back to my office with Marty.

I tripped on a shopping bag left on the floor just inside my office door, but managed to steady myself with the help of the coat rack. Bending down to pick up the bag, I saw it was from Pamela and assumed it contained the shoes and accessories for Thursday night. I tossed the bag on my desk chair and took a seat at the conference table. Marty and I carefully went through the band's rider, scheduled pickups and a few other details for about twenty minutes. At last we were done and I showed him to the door. As he was leaving, a messenger carrying a garment bag shuffled down the hallway.

"Stackhouse?" he inquired.

"That's me."

Without another word he extracted a crumpled delivery bill from his back pocket and shoved it toward me. Scrawling my signature, I handed it back to him in exchange for the garment bag and he took off back down the hall. I scurried to my office and locked the door behind me so I could try on the dress with the accessories from Pamela. A full-length mirror hung on the inside of the closet, and I was relieved to see that I still liked the dress. Digging through the bag from Pam, I tried on the various accessories she'd sent and settled on a bold but simple cuff and understated earrings as Marisa and Pamela had suggested. The shoe options were high and higher, but the gorgeous strappy silver heels I decided to wear were surprisingly comfortable. At least they were for now.

I just had a few minutes before my next meeting, so changed back into my clothes and stowed everything carefully away in the closet. There was no use taking anything home – I would change into the dress here and most likely take it off before heading home after the party.

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The next two days flew by at the speed of light. The load-in of equipment ran smoothly and thankfully nothing was damaged as the huge cases and equipment were maneuvered through the museum and into place in the Greek and Roman Court. The Court was closed to the public, but it was a hive of activity between Quinn's and Lafayette's crews.

I checked on progress periodically to make sure everything was still on schedule. To tell the truth, I checked on the set-up in the Court way more than was necessary due to the fact that Eric was supervising. Locating him in my peripheral vision was my first order of business upon entering the Court. I could feel his eyes on me as I'd maneuver around to talk to Lafayette, Quinn and their crews.

As I was leaving the Court for the last time on Wednesday I stopped to chat with Eric and Gary.

"Hi guys. Everything going okay in here from your perspective?" I asked.

Gary piped up, "Yeah, We're good." He was watching Quinn's crew lift a lighting truss into place.

"No problems on our end," Eric said. Then he leaned in a little closer and a hint of concern flashed across his face. "How are you holding up?"

I laughed and waved my hand dismissively. "Oh, I'm fine. A little tired, but that comes with the territory. I'll be glad when it's Friday." I always began to yearn for the day after an event at this point in the process.

"I'm looking forward to Friday too," he said looking me right in the eye.

I swallowed hard and a bolt of nervous excitement shot through me at the thought of our impending talk on Friday. The intensity of his look flustered me so much that I had to break his gaze and glance around the Court.

"So….did you guys see my email about the get together at Zocalo's after work on Frida to thank everybody who helped with the event?" Having regained my composure, I managed to look back at him.

"I'll be there," Eric smirked.

"I'm in too," said Gary.

This situation was so odd. The attraction and the tension, were palpable…it was undeniable that something was there. This undefined thing between us was surrounded by hints, subtle flirtation, _playlists _for god's sake...and a couple of vague emails. At last we had not only a day to talk about _this_, but also a planned starting location. I wasn't always the most direct person, but I'd certainly never danced around anything so much in my life.

"Good. Well, um…I better get running to the _Stila _offices. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you later, Sookie," said Eric. Gary was too engrossed in watching the work to say goodbye.

I walked away feeling a bit self-conscious, knowing that Eric was probably still watching me. Crap. I hoped my panty lines weren't showing.

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I curled up tightly in bed Thursday morning, attempting to will myself back to unconsciousness so I could sleep until my alarm clock went off, but thoughts of the event ran through my head making the effort futile. Sighing heavily, I clicked on the bedside lamp, threw off the covers and stretched. I lay staring at the ceiling contemplating the day for a couple of minutes before heaving myself out of bed to take a shower. I ran through the overall plan for the day and ticked off the handful of things that were worrying me. I'd attack those niggling items first when I got in the office so I could begin the day with a clear deck.

I'd scheduled a 4:00 hair appointment at a salon just a few blocks from the museum. The odds of actually being able to keep the appointment were slim, but I did hope to be able to make it in so the stylist could arrange it into the loose bun that Pamela had suggested. It wasn't a complicated style, but I could certainly use some professional help. I gave my hair a little more attention than usual that morning in case I wasn't able to keep the appointment.

Out the door a little after seven, I stopped by the coffee cart on the corner for a large coffee and a bagel. Chances were good that I'd get too busy to eat again, so I forced myself to eat the dry bagel, even though I didn't have much of an appetite. Upon arrival at the museum I went directly to the Court to check on the progress that had been made after I'd left. The entire a/v set up was in place and ready for the afternoon sound check, and the stage was carefully and cleverly tucked between a series of statues.

The deserted Court was crowded in ugly beat up wooden folding tables surrounded by ballroom chairs covered in protective worn canvas chair covers. It would take merely a couple of hours for Lafayette's crew, working in tandem with the caterers, to set the tables and transform this seeming jumble into an elegant and unforgettable dining room. I couldn't wait to see Lafayette work his magic.

Smiling in anticipation, I made my way to the office and settled in to my desk. The phone had yet to ring and I took advantage of the peace and quiet to crank through my short list. Holly, Halleigh and Lucy arrived early, and we met briefly to run through our plan of attack one last time. A nervous hum of energy ran through our foursome, and as the meeting broke, phones began to ring. It was show time.

The next few hours were crazy, but our department worked remarkably well together to keep everything on track and running smooth. Lucy also ensured that we were fed and watered which was a big bonus. Miraculously, when time came for my hair appointment, I actually felt that I could go.

"Okay, ladies. I'm going to try to dash and do this. Call me if anything comes up. I'll be back in an hour….hopefully sooner." I couldn't believe I was actually leaving my post at this time, but that dress was pushing me to try to step up my game.

The stylist was understanding of my situation and took care of me in record time. I actually liked what he did with my hair – it wasn't fussy, just a loose low bun with a couple of tendrils that framed my face. Within forty-five minutes I was back in the office and was relieved to hear that nothing of consequence had happened. In fact, calls and emails had died down and our office became relatively quiet. It was the calm before the storm.

"I think this is as good a time as any to get dressed. Let's be ready to go down to the Great Hall at 5:30, okay?"

Everybody took turns changing in my office. I dressed quickly, put on some light makeup and a spray of my favorite perfume and sat down at my desk to double check my email. At this point, there was nothing else I could do. I tapped my fingers on the keyboard, trying to quell my nerves, and checked the time. 5:15. I couldn't sit in my office any longer.

I pushed my chair back, grabbed my blackberry and a slim notebook that contained all the essential information for the next five hours, and told the girls I'd see them downstairs. My nerves were jangly. I couldn't stand still and had to bounce my leg on the elevator down to release some energy. Rather than heading to the main entrance, I decided to take a moment and get a last look at the Greek and Roman Court.

As I walked through the galleries toward the Court, past the floral columns that Lafayette has installed, I could feel myself shedding the nervous energy that I'd been holding all day. The event was poised to be a major success, and I'd done solid work.

I could smell the delicate flowers of the centerpieces before the Court was actually in view. Rounding the corner, my breath caught at the beauty and total transformation of the room. The columns were softly uplit and the room was washed in mottled pale blue light. A handful of waiters were lighting the candles on the tables, creating a flickering glow throughout the space. Pools of light fell on the pedestaled statues that were interspersed amongst the long tables laden with the greenery and sensuous arrangements. It was a transporting and ethereal atmosphere.

"Beautiful." Eric's voice rumbled behind me.

Butterflies instantly surfaced in my stomach. I looked over my shoulder to see him approaching, looking casually relaxed with a hand in his pocket. He cut an impressive figure in a classic tuxedo.

I smiled in agreement, "It is beautiful. Lafayette is very talented."

"Sookie," he said with a crooked smile, "I wasn't talking about the décor. _You_ look really beautiful."

"Oh." My heart pounded at his compliment. I looked down at my dress and smoothed my free hand down the skirt. I summoned my confidence and smiled back at him. "Thank you. Well, I must say you're looking quite dashing yourself."

"Thanks to Tom Ford and Gucci."

I shook my head and brazenly objected in a playful tone, "Oh, I don't think it's the clothes that make the man."

Before he could say anything further, our blackberries buzzed in unison. We looked down instantly to check our incoming messages. It was Pamela summoning us to the Great Hall for a photo.

"And so it begins," Eric said, and momentarily touched my lower back as we began walking together toward the Great Hall.

My nerves returned to me, Not because of the event which would start in less than an hour, or even because of Eric, but from the prospect of having a press photo taken. I'd known it was a good possibility since I'd been 'dressed' by the evening sponsor and had appeared in the photo spread, but had hoped against hope that I'd be able to avoid it.

We crossed the Great Hall toward the main entrance where the press line was located. A huge number of photographers and television crews were already in place having arrived early to get a good location. The impressive media turnout was indicative of Sophie-Anne's success in corralling A-list celebrities for tonight's party.

Some key press were stationed inside the Great Hall entrance, but the rest of the photographers were lining both sides of the massive tented staircase that led from the street to the museum doors.

"There you are," said Pamela in her usual blasé tone. She ran an eye over the two of us and seemed to be pleased with our appearance. She pointed us over to a small group of people that included Sophie-Anne, Peter Threadgill, Catherine Coulson, Lorena and Felicia. We joined the group with Pamela hot on our heels.

Sophie-Anne beckoned sharply with her hand and instantly a bespectacled red-headed man wearing a tux stepped forward, efficiently and expertly commanding the attention of our group.

"Hello, I'm Anthony. I'm going to be taking you through the press line for a few photos. We'll be taking Sophie-Anne, Catherine and Peter through first. Then we'll get the whole group of you that participated in the _Stila_ shoot plus Pamela. And last we'll have some shots of just the three goddesses."

I squeezed my hands into fists as though I could exert some influence over my sweaty palms. Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and looked down the long line of photographers. Sophie-Anne, Catherine and Peter stepped forward and a few flashbulbs went off. After a bit, Peter stepped back so just the two women were photographed together. All too soon they were done and it was our turn to step up to the cameras.

Pamela took the middle spot, bracketed by Eric and Lorena on one side, and me and Felicia on the other. The second we were lined up, the hissing pops and blazes of light from the flashes assaulted my senses. I focused on relaxing into a natural smile and maintaining decent posture. Through my concentration, I heard my name called from the ranks of the photographers and instinctively my head jerked in the direction of the photographer.

I was shocked that a photographer would know me by name, but relaxed a bit when the names of the rest of our quintet were called too. After about a minute Anthony pulled Eric and Pamela to the side with him, and the three 'Goddesses' were photographed together.

As the flashes were slowing down, I felt the tension leaving my body. Thank goodness that was over. I breathed in deeply and was turning to head back into the museum, when a chorus of 'Sookie, Eric, can we get your picture together?" erupted from the corps of photographers.

Instantly I could feel my panic rising and my heart began to race. My eyes widened and my brain screamed no. After the Page Six debacle and the earlier situation between Eric and Felicia there was no way I wanted to be photographed with just Eric, regardless of my feelings for him. I looked to Anthony for help with the situation, and I saw that Eric had already begun moving to join me.

"No, no!" I said emphatically to nobody in particular, shaking my head. "I don't have any more time! I have to get in to talk to the caterer." And I pushed past Eric and fled back up the stairs to the museum. I didn't push past him fast enough to miss the look of surprise on his face though.

I instantly knew I'd made a misstep with Eric and at the top of the steps took a quick glance over my shoulder. Eric wasn't looking at me, but I could see anger on his face and a pit opened up in my stomach. I'd handled the situation poorly, but I couldn't possibly do anything to rectify it at this very moment. My phone buzzed with an incoming call from the catering captain. As I stepped inside to answer the phone, an explosion of light bulbs behind me announced the first celebrity arrivals.

I'd just have to catch up with Eric later in the evening and apologize.

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The party was running like clockwork. The caterers were serving dessert and coffee, and the band was about to go on. I'd never seen a more star-studded event, and I'd worked hundreds of events in my career. Catherine and Sophie-Anne had been ecstatic about the evening when I'd checked in with them earlier. I should have been feeling on top of the world at the success of my first Party of the Year – it was the pinnacle of my career to date. But I couldn't shake the terrible feeling that I'd screwed things up with Eric. I hadn't seen him since the press line and uneasiness hung over me like a cloud.

When the band came on an appreciate roar went up among the crowd, and hundreds of guests who'd purchased lesser priced dessert tickets spilled through the front doors into the Great Hall. The lights in the Court had transitioned from the soothing pale blues to concert lights of hot oranges, pinks and reds. The vibrations of the music rattled my sternum and concern for the art flashed through my mind, but I saw Gary across the room looking relaxed so assumed all was okay.

I made the rounds to check on the greenroom, Quinn and Jean-Luc. Everything was running smoothly and on track, so I set out to find Eric which would be no small task.

I'd been making laps of the museum for nearly an hour trying to find him in the crowd, but the Great Hall and Greek and Roman Court were so packed with people it was impossible. Craning my neck, I finally caught a glimpse of the back of a tall blond head in a shadowy corner of the Court tucked under the overhanging balcony. I jostled my way over. "Eric!" I practically yelled so he could hear me over the band. As he began to turn I saw he was holding the hand of a petite blonde and whispering in her ear. A sick wave of jealousy washed over me and I faltered. I was about to turn and bolt when I caught a glimpse of his face.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, I thought you were somebody else," I apologized. I could feel my face instantly flush. It was Alexander Skarsgard and I'd interrupted a canoodling session with Kate Bosworth.

"No worries. I get it all the time." He smiled crookedly and turned back to Kate.

I embarrassedly slunk away to resume my search, but glancing at my blackberry realized it was nearly time for the band to finish up. Duty came first and I needed to make sure the waiters were in place to pass truffles and that security was prepared for the exodus of guests.

Once I was sure we were ready for the next stage of the event, I propped myself against one of the large columns in the Great Hall to watch the guests leave. The cool granite against my skin was soothing, but my lower back was starting to cramp and my feet were blistered and protesting the many miles I'd walked in sky-high heels on the marble floors. It had been a long week – adrenaline had gotten me this far, but I was crashing hard.

It seemed to take ages for the crowd to dwindle, but as soon as the last guests left, I dismissed Holly, Halleigh and Lucy, then made the rounds to check on the breakdown. Lafayette and the catering operation would be loading out tonight, and all the a/v equipment would be removed tomorrow. I found Gary in the Greek and Roman Court keeping an eye on the removal of the tables and chairs, but no sign of Eric.

"Hey, Sookie. Did Eric find you?" Gary called.

"No, I actually haven't seen him since the party started. Is he still around?" I winced as a muscle in my back constricted. I tried to knead the muscle with my thumb to get it to relax, but it wasn't loosening up.

Gary shot me a concerned look and said, "He's here somewhere, but….hey, you should go home. We'll make sure everything is fine here."

I wanted to tough it out and stay for load out, but my back was simply in too much pain. And as much as I hated it, I'd just have to wait until tomorrow to clear things up with Eric. I probably couldn't speak too coherently at this point anyway.

"Thanks, Gary." I smiled weakly. "I'll see you tomorrow at Zocalo."

"Yep, see you there. And great event, Sookie. Congratulations."

Too weary to respond further, I just waved goodbye. I hobbled back to my office to slip into flats, jeans and a sweatshirt. I gathered my bags and left to catch a taxi home as quickly as I possibly could.

After slipping into pajamas and scrubbing my face, I collapsed into bed and sank into a deep sleep.

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I was awakened by the sun streaming through my window, and nearly jumped out bed thinking I'd overslept. My aching body revolted at the sudden movement, reminding me that the event was in fact over. Every event seemed to be taking a greater toll on my body….probably because I wasn't 25 anymore. I let out a huge sigh of relief and collapsed back into bed contemplating the events of the previous evening.

I smiled thinking of the success until my thoughts drifted back to the look on Eric's face in the press line, and a knot in my stomach returned. I needed to find him at some point today and apologize. Surely I'd run into him in the Court, and if not I'd definitely see him at Zocalo's.

Finally I motivated myself to make a move for the shower, but in the process stubbed my already wounded toe on the corner of my suitcase. I cursed in pain, then groaned when I remembered I still needed to pack for my trip. I'd been so engrossed in the event that packing had been the least of my concerns. I sighed. Packing wasn't going to happen today either. My flight didn't leave until mid-afternoon tomorrow, so I'd just pack in the morning and buy whatever I was bound to forget in Greece.

I didn't make it into the office until 9:20. It was the first time that the three girls had made it in before me. Holly, Halleigh and Lucy looked as tired as I did, and we mumbled our good mornings as I passed through to my office. Two beautiful flower arrangements crowded my desk. After reading the congratulatory notes from Catherine and Sophie-Anne, I carried the larger arrangement out to the other room.

"I'm not going to be able to function unless I get more caffeine in my system. Anybody else want to go with me?" They issued grunts in answer, and our foursome trudged down to the cafeteria, and returned with large cups of coffee and considerably better attitudes. Eventually I managed to turn on my computer and check my emails, then voicemail.

"Do you know how load out is going in the Court?" asked Holly.

"No, I better go head down there." I checked my face in the mirror before setting off. I looked tired, but it could have been worse. Hopefully I'd see Eric and could steal a couple of minutes to talk with him in private. On the way down I rehearsed my apology. The closer I got to the Court, the more nervous I became.

I gave myself a little pep talk as I walked into the open expanse, but was surprised to find that neither Eric nor Gary were there. In fact, the Court was nearly empty. The load out had wrapped much faster than I'd anticipated. There were just two guys from Quinn's crew pushing out the last of the cases.

"Hey guys. So, you're out of here?" I called out as I approached.

"Yeah. We were able to break pretty much everything down last night. Moving the cases out is quick," said the taller of the two.

"Oh, that's great. Well, thanks for everything. You guys were terrific."

"No problem. Our pleasure."

"Uh, have you seen any of the curators around this morning?" I asked casually.

"Yeah, that one guy was around. The dark haired guy. Haven't seen the tall one though."

"Oh, okay. Thanks. Well, have a good one." I waved and returned a little dejectedly to my office. At least I'd see Eric tonight.

My major objective of the day was to give Holly my itinerary and contact information for the trip. I was leaving her in charge of the department while I was gone, so passed along any pertinent information she may need in my absence. Our department did nothing but click through gossip sites for the rest of the day, trolling through photos from the event and gabbing about the celebrities in attendance. We desperately needed that day to decompress, and were excited to head to Zocalo's when five o'clock rolled around.

Upon arrival at the Mexican bar and restaurant just down the street, I opened a tab with the bartender and ordered a round of drinks for our department since we were the first to arrive. Before long about twenty-five people from our event crew had taken over the far side of the bar.

I'd ensconced myself at a table with Lafayette, Quinn, Sam, Bill and Chip. Bill hadn't been involved with the event, of course, but I figured I was picking up the tab, so I invited him. Chip had flown out for the long weekend and had purchased a dessert ticket with Bill.

"Oh my god, Sookie. Everything last night was _amazing_," he gushed. He rambled on about the lighting, décor, food and attendees. I laughed at his enthusiasm, but took it as a huge compliment coming from a fellow event planner who was so well established in the field.

Everybody I'd expected had come with one notable exception, and it was eating away at me. I looked down at my watch to see it was 6:30 p.m. Maybe he'd just gotten caught up at the office. He was leaving on Monday for a conference after all, and had been devoting a lot of time to the event these past few days. Everytime the door opened my eyes shot up expectantly. I tried to mask my disappointment at each new arrival.

"I don't know about y'all, but I'm so hungry I could eat the south end of a north bound skunk," I said and waved down a waitress.

Chip nearly fell out his chair, and Bill burst out in a hearty laugh.

Chip shook his head in astonishment, "I just didn't believe people really said that. I mean, I thought for _sure_ Bill was messing with me. You Southerners."

I laughed at him with a dismissive wave of the hand and ordered guacamole, chips and quesadillas for the table.

"Oh, and could I also please have a gin and tonic?" I asked. Probably the last thing I needed was another drink with the massive packing job I had in front of me tomorrow morning, but the Eric situation was literally driving me to drink. Everybody put in their drink orders and settled back into conversation about the event. The waitress returned with our drinks and I took a long sip and leaned back in my chair.

"Sookie, where's Eric?" Lafayette asked without a hint of sarcasm.

I pursed my lips, raised my eyebrows and shrugged. "I don't know. He said he was coming, but I haven't seen him today." I took another sip of my drink and felt the eyes of Bill, Lafayette and Sam on me, measuring my facial expressions.

Taking another sip in an attempt to shield my face from the boys, I glanced down when my blackberry buzzed.

"_What_?" I nearly choked on my drink as I read the message.

It was from the airline reminding me that I needed to check in by 9:00 a.m. for my 11:00 a.m. flight. My heart rate shot up and I scrolled back through my previous messages to see that I'd received an email the day before that the flight time had been pushed up. I'd missed it in the chaos of the event. I needed to get home right away and start packing if I ever hoped to make the flight.

I looked up to see all eyes at the table on me.

"Sorry, to run, guys, but I've got to go pack for my trip. My schedule's changed a bit unexpectedly. Stay as long as you'd like – I'll have Holly close out the tab when everybody's ready to leave." I bit my lip realizing I wasn't going to see Eric before I left for Greece.

"And if Eric comes by, will you tell him…um…" I paused thinking of what to say, "will you just tell him thanks for all his help on the event."

I couldn't stand to look at the expressions on the faces of Sam, Bill and Lafayette, so I gave a quick round of hugs and said thanks, then zipped over to ask Holly to handle the tab with my card. Waving my goodbyes, I left for home and spent the next few miserable hours packing for the trip.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After stowing my carry-on in the overhead compartment, I squeezed past the knees of the prim elderly woman whom I was seated next to and sunk into my usual window seat. I politely smiled good morning and bent down to slide my purse under the seat in front of me. I was amazed at how much stiffer my muscles were today, and leaned back in the chair to look out the window.

I'd been torturing myself for the last few hours trying to decide what to do about Eric, and I was rapidly running out of time to take action. Several times I'd contemplated sending off a quick email to him, but lost my nerve. Clearly he didn't want to see me, and I thought maybe it was best to just wait and talk to him when we were both back in the city. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples wondering how I could have managed to screw things up so royally. I'd thought I would be leaving for Greece with some sort of relationship with Eric defined. The lady next to me gave me a funny look and I realized I must have been broadcasting my distress. I gave her a little smile to assure her I wasn't a psycopath and turned to look out the window.

At the announcement to turn off all cell phones I bent to retrieve mine from my purse and saw the notificating light was flashing. My mouth ran dry when I saw it was a text from Eric that had come in about half an hour ago.

_Are you coming to Muddy's?_

I looked to see the flight attendant walking down the aisle to enforce the cell phone and seat belt rules. My hands shook as I tried to rapidly tap out a reply.

_On the plane. My flight got pushed up._

I hit send and waited anxiously for a reply. I attempted to shield the phone from view of the flight attendant to buy enough time to receive a reply. The lady next to me gave me a dirty look and the flight attendant stopped to glare at me.

"Miss, you have to turn your cell phone off and stow it away right now," she said sternly.

The passengers in nearby aisles craned their necks to look at me. I breathed in deeply and pushed the button to turn it off and tucked it back in my purse. My head hit the headrest heavily, and I pressed my fists to my eyes

"Fuck!" I hissed in frustration. I stayed with my eyes covered for a few moments, then pulled my hands away and looked apologetically at the shocked woman next to me.

"I'm sorry," I said shaking my head, and closed my eyes. It was going to be a long flight.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N An amuse-bouche, compliments of the chef. A regular chapter will post tomorrow._

**Take That, Rewind it Back....**  
**Zocalo's, the day after the Party of the Year **

"Here you go, Bill." Sookie slid a beer across the table to me.

"Sookie, where's Eric?" Lafayette asked. I didn't know Lafayette well - we'd just hung out the night Sookie had rounded up people to go to a play - but I knew him enough to recognize his question was uncharacteristically sincere.

"I don't know," she said with raised eyebrows, "he said he was coming, but I haven't seen him today." Her nonchalant shrug did nothing to disguise the tight sound of her voice. I surveyed her closely to try to gauge her train of thought. She sipped her drink in an attempt to shield her face, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes.

Her blackberry buzzed and she glanced down to read the incoming message.

"_What_?_" _she shrieked at the message. I was more than a little worried about Sookie. She'd really pushed herself to the limit over the last week, and her usual flawless composure was showing cracks.

She pushed back her chair, readying herself to leave. "Sorry to run, guys, but I've got to go pack for my trip. My schedule's changed a bit unexpectedly. Stay as long as you'd like – I'll have Holly close out the tab when everybody's ready to leave."

Standing before us, she looked frazzled and fragile. "And if Eric comes, will you tell him…um…," she paused, "will you just tell him thanks for all his help on the event?"

Chip pointedly nudged my knee with his under the table. I'd told him long ago about Sookie and Eric, and he'd witnessed their flirtations first hand the night of the play. He always asked me for updates on their situation, and was looking forward to watching their interaction tonight as much as I was. Sookie, of course, never mentioned anything outright about Eric, but the progression of their attraction over the last months was evident to me. Hell, it was plain as day to everybody that spent any time around them.

Sookie gave us all rushed hugs and swept out of the restaurant, leaving us in contemplative silence.

Sam shook his head and set down his drink. "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink," he said in an exasperated tone.

"Whadya talking about?" asked Quinn. He was the only one at our table who seemed to be on another page. Make that in another book.

Sam didn't bother answering. He just waved his hand dismissively at Quinn and turned his attention to the baseball game on the television over the bar. Not two minutes later, Chip nudged my leg again to get my attention, and nodded toward the entrance with his chin. Eric's tall frame pushed through the front door and he made his way through the crowd to the bar to place an order. He spotted us while waiting on his beer and made his way over once he had it in hand.

"Hey," he said, and pulled up a chair between Sam and Sookie's recently vacated chair, eyeing her mostly untouched gin and tonic.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lafayette scowled.

Eric seemed slightly taken aback by his question. "Getting ready to be out of the office for a week. What's your problem, man?"

Lafayette shook his head. "You're a damned fool," he muttered.

Eric brushed off Lafayette and craned his neck to look around the restaurant. "Where's Sookie?"

"She went home to pack for her trip," explained Sam. "She said to tell you thanks for your help with the party."

Eric rubbed his hand across his forehead, then took a swig of beer. He looked around the table to see all eyes trained on him with the exception of Quinn who was engrossed in the ballgame.

"Talk about a person who could use a vacation," said Chip to lighten the mood. "Sookie deserves it after that event."

"No kidding," said Lafayette. "I hope she'll meet somebody on her trip. Lord knows she could stand to get a little lovin'."

Lafayette's words caught Quinn's attention. "Shut up, Lafayette," he snapped.

"Well, it's true," said Lafayette. "Get over her already, Quinn."

Grabbing his coat and drink, Quinn huffed off, joining some guys from his crew at the bar.

"What's with him?" Eric asked.

"He's still hung up on Sookie. He'll always think of her as the one that got away," said Lafayette.

"Sookie and Quinn were…._together_?" Eric asked with an incredulous look on his face.

Lafayette shrugged. "He asked her out. She said yes. They dated for a while." He took a sip and casually glanced up at the game. Eric sat in contemplative silence. Lafayette was laying it on thick, although I don't know that Eric recognized it. I allowed Eric a moment to absorb the information before joining in on the sneak attack. I steered the conversation back to Sookie's trip.

"There's nothing like travel to open you up to new experiences and meeting new people. You know, Chip and I actually met while traveling in Costa Rica. Neither one of us were looking for a relationship at the time. It took us both by surprise."

Chip gave my hand a little squeeze and took up the reins. "Well, and in a place like the Greek islands? Phew. It's so romantic – it would be easy to get swept off your feet."

Eric's jaw clenched and Sam gave us a look I couldn't quite decipher. We all watched the game for a couple of minutes, then Sam spoke.

"Sookie reminds me of my Harriet. I've thought that since the moment I saw her in the Great Hall on her first day at the museum." Sam's words pulled us all in. "There's something special about that girl. I feel very protective of her."

We all nodded in agreement except for Eric who sat stock still, staring at his beer. Sam continued and Eric looked up at him.

"In my day, we married much younger. There were two kinds of girls – girls you dated, and girls you married." Sam paused and looked around to see he had our undivided attention.

"Now, it's probably hard for you to imagine, but I was somewhat of a ladies man in my youth. I was sowing my wild oats…and having a ball doing it. But when I met Harriet, I knew it was game over for me," his voice grew thick with emotion. He looked up to the ceiling and blinked a few time to regain his composure, then continued. "Problem was, she was engaged to somebody else….the best friend of my cousin Bobby."

I was at the edge of my seat hanging on his every word. I wasn't alone. Sam knew he had us in the palm of his hand with his story, and paused for a few seconds to soak it up.

Curiosity overtook Chip and he asked eagerly, "So what did you do?"

"I knew I couldn't stand by and let her marry that kid. He was all wrong for her. Plus I knew we belonged together. So I went for it, as you say these days." Sam took a long swig and leaned back smiling in his chair.

"I came out guns-a-blazing.. Full-court press. I charmed the pants off her. Well, not the pants….she was a lady, after all."

"And what about the guy? Bobby's friend?" Chip practically begged.

"It didn't take her long to see the light and throw him over. And the rest, as they say, is history."

Lafayette smiled and nodded his head appreciatively. "That took some balls."

Sam nodded in agreement, smiled, and gave Eric a significant look. "Well, when you're going for the big game, you've got to take the big risks." Lafayette, Chip and I nodded in agreement.

"To big risks," toasted Chip, and we all clinked our glasses. Everybody raised their drink but Eric. He pushed his chair back from the table, and without a word, left the restaurant.

We watched him leave, then Sam looked around our group with a twinkle in his eye. "That was solid work, men. It's been a pleasure serving with you."

We raised our glasses and clinked again.


	16. Chapter 16

**_a/n A big thank you to the lovely svmaddict for being my location scout, fact checker and all-around helpful authority on all things Greek! _**  
**_ And to Miss Construed for being a fantastic sounding board...._**

"Flight crews, please prepare the cabin for landing."

The captain's smooth voice roused me from sleep. I peeled my cheek away from the leather seat cushion and sat up straight to slide up the window shade. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, wincing at the bright light. A dull headache was pulsing across my skull. Fortunately I'd been able to sleep through the last few hours of the flight, aided by three gin and tonics, a melatonin tablet, and the request of the disapproving woman next to me to be seated elsewhere after takeoff. I was paying the price for those gin and tonics now though.

I peeked outside. Cloud cover prevented a clear view, but intermittently I could catch glimpses of the landscape becoming increasingly dense with roads and buildings as we approached Athens. In only ten more minutes we'd be on the ground and I'd be able to turn on my cell phone. I closed my eyes and worked on some controlled breathing exercises.

The first hours of the flight were rough. My ability to compartmentalize emotions – the ability I'd always been so proud of – was maddeningly inaccessible. There was no boxing up my feelings, and I was climbing the walls thinking about Eric and our inability to connect. And, of course, the fear that I'd blew things the night of the party was sitting like a stone in my stomach.

After considering all my options, I finally settled on a course of action. Upon landing I'd see what Eric's response was to my text, then I'd email him an apology. I didn't like the idea of apologizing via email - I was a firm believer in face-to-face communication for important things – but that sentiment had also contributed to this mess.

I'd felt a little better after making a plan, and turned to my iPod. My inclination to listen to the playlist from Eric only increased my agitation, so I quickly switched to U2 and ordered a gin and tonic. I attempted reading a book, but I couldn't focus, managing to only reread the same three sentences about eighty-seven times. Eventually I found a mindless comedy on the in-flight entertainment menu, ordered another gin and tonic, and put my mind on cruise control. After the movie I washed down a melatonin tablet with the last of my gin and tonics, and crashed for the remainder of the flight.

Now, in our final approach to Athens, I was anxious to get a move on. I extracted my blackberry from my purse and clutched it at the ready to turn on as soon as the wheels hit the runway. The landing was smooth, but my nerves were jumping. The blackberry came alive in my hand with vibrations from the incoming emails that had piled up over the last several hours. As we taxied to the gate I anxiously scrolled through the inbox. I reached the last of the messages and swallowed hard. Nothing from Eric. I scrolled through again to make sure I hadn't somehow missed a message. My chest tightened when I confirmed I hadn't heard from him, and I slid the phone back in my purse.

I sighed and closed my eyes while waiting my turn to deplane. I had a bit of a journey to Spetses in front of me, but as soon as I arrived and settled into my hotel, I would email my apology to Eric. It was just a few more hours and I wanted to carefully consider my words.

Collecting my bags and passing through customs was a mercifully smooth process. Before making my way outside, I grabbed a large coffee and tyropita. I'd been dreaming about the flaky cheese pie since my last trip here, and even the airport version lived up to my memories. After getting my bearings and determining the best place to find a taxi, I jumped into the river of people exiting the airport. Upon passing the doors to the curb outside the terminal, I was instantly hit by a blast of hot air and the unfamiliar smells of a foreign city.

Since I'd been to Athens before, I felt comfortable finding a legitimate taxi. The diminutive taxi driver I hired was only too happy to help pack me and my bags into the tiny taxi. He chatted enthusiastically throughout the entire ride about a trip he'd made to New York City to visit his nephew a few years earlier. I found him utterly charming, and the stresses of the last few hours started to melt away as I switched into travel mode.

It had been four years since my last visit to Greece, and I felt comforted to recognize parts of Athens as we tore down the highway leading toward the city center. At last we reached the port, and the driver pulled me right up to the ticketing office and marched in carrying my bags to make sure I found the correct line. I didn't really need his help, but appreciated the gesture and gave him a generous tip.

I fell into step with the stream of people boarding the large catamaran. The passengers seemed to be mostly Greek, but I recognized a few other foreign faces in the crowd. Upon boarding the boat, I scouted out a window location in an empty row of blue upholstered seats.

Piling my bags up in a neat stack, I propped my crossed feet on them and kicked back to watch the boat fill. A young woman in her mid-twenties dropped a chic tote in the seat next to me and sank down with a sigh. She glanced around, then looked at me and smiled.

"American?" she asked.

I glanced down at my navy blue top and wide legged khaki pants, which I'd thought would blend in, then looked back at her with a smile. "Is it that obvious?" I asked in return.

She shrugged. "Just a sixth sense. I'm Sofia," she offered with an outstretched hand.

"I'm Sookie. Nice to meet you," I shook her hand and felt the familiar rush that always ran through me when I met new people while traveling. Sofia was a classic olive-complected Mediterranean beauty with long hair and a broad smile.

"I assume you're going to Spetses on holiday?"

I nodded. "Just for a couple of days. Then I'm off to Skiathos for the rest of the week."

"So you've seen _Mamma Mia!_, huh?" she laughed. "That's how most people find out about Skiathos."

"Well, yes, I have seen the movie….but I'm going at my friend's suggestion." My mind drifted back to Eric momentarily and I felt a little pang. I hastily pushed the thought away and asked, "So, have you been to Spetses before?"

"Oh, yes - lots. It's such an easy trip from Athens," she explained. "I'm going to visit my boyfriend, Alexandros, for a few days. He's working there on assignment. During the days I explore or go to the beach. It's a beautiful island."

The boat left the port and we chattered away as Athens eventually dropped from view.

"Any suggestions for somebody visiting for just a couple of days?" I asked.

"Oh, loads! I was planning to go to Vrelos beach tomorrow afternoon – you're welcome to join me if you'd like? It would be nice to have company."

I hesitated momentarily. Normally I liked to do my own thing, but I was looking forward to hitting the beach and Sofia's company would be a welcome distraction while I got my head straightened out over this Eric business.

"I'd love to go to the beach. Thanks for the invitation."

"Actually, you should come out with me and Alexandros for drinks tonight.

We're meeting up with a bunch of his friends." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Are you dating anybody? A couple of his friends are great catches."

The pang returned with a vengeance. "Uh, no. I'm not dating anybody," I said.

My expression must have changed, because a wave of concern rippled across her face, "Oh, did you just get out a relationship?"

I could hear the edge of bitterness in my laugh, "No. There's a guy I'm friends with…I…I thought it was going to turn into more, but it just hasn't gotten off the ground."

Her eyes widened and she nodded knowingly. "You're coming out with us tonight," she concluded emphatically. "Who knows? Maybe one of them will sweep you off your feet."

I shook my head and laughed. "I'll go tonight, but I'm not looking to get swept off my feet, okay? Please don't let me dangle out there like a piece of meat."

She ignored the second half of my response. "Great! I'll be so happy to have a girlfriend with me for once," she beamed.

We exchanged numbers, hammered out a loose plan for the evening, and then continued our marathon conversation.

Two hours quickly passed, and soon Sofia said, "Oh! There's Spetses." She pointed off to her left and at the faint blue-green outline of a distant island. Within fifteen minutes the boat was pulling into the busy harbor lined with moored yachts and sailboats.

The drone of the diesel engines died down, and my body felt a little numb at the loss of the constant vibrations that had emanated from them. We gathered our bags and made our way off the boat. The sounds of calling seagulls, water lapping against the boats, and the tinkling of bells atop bobbing buoys welcomed us to the charming harbor.

"You're staying just along the water that way," Sofia swept her hand to the left.

"Thanks," I said gratefully since my map was momentarily inaccessible.

"So, we'll see you at 9:00 tonight, right?"

"I'll see you then," I said with a wave goodbye. It would be fun to get out and see the nightlife with some locals.

A long snaking stone retaining wall topped by a walkway separated the harbor from the town. Busy cafes and tavernas perched along the seaside walkway afforded open-air dining overlooking the picturesque harbor. Displays of fresh fish on ice beckoned me to return for dinner.

I picked my way across the uneven cobblestone streets to the small inn. The seaside inn was an old master house that had been recently renovated. Stuccoed walls and a red tiled roof were characteristic of the surrounding buildings that lined both sides of the road. A tall wooden gate creaked open onto a pathway of black and white pebbles meticulously arranged in intricate designs. The path, fringed by a lush tangle of jasmine, bougainvillea and trumpet vine, led to a pool overlooking the water. I rang the bell at what I assumed to be the correct door, and was warmly greeted by a slight, grandmotherly woman.

"Come in! Come in! You must be Miss Stackhouse. I am your hostess, Mrs. Antonopoulos. Welcome to Spetses...let me show you to your room." She hefted my bags out of my grip with a strength that surprised me for someone of her age and stature. We passed through charming rooms with beamed ceilings and windows covered with lace curtains. She led me up a staircase that groaned with every footfall and down a long hallway to a door that opened onto a bright airy studio with a private sun-soaked balcony overlooking the water. The furnishings were rustically appropriate and created a romantic setting.

Mrs. Antonopoulos stowed my bags on a luggage stand in a corner of the room and ran through the room amenities and the schedule for the poolside breakfast. I thanked her heartily and she backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Sinking onto the inviting bed, I exhaled a long breath, relieved to have arrived at my first destination. Allowing my eyes to rest for a minute, I also felt relieved to now have the mental space to formulate an email apology to Eric.

My watch read 2:00 p.m., putting the time in New York City at 4:00 in the morning. A yawn escaped at the reminder of my body time, and I decided a catnap should be my first order of business so I'd have the energy to stay up this evening. Eric wouldn't be awake to receive my email for hours anyway. The warm afternoon air, tempered by cooler salty sea breezes, lulled me into an easy sleep for nearly two hours. I awoke more refreshed, but starving, and set out on a mission for a quick snack.

"Do you like chicken sandwiches?" asked Mrs. Antonopoulos.

I'd asked her for directions to a nearby market, but she insisted that she'd whip something up for me in the kitchen.

"That sounds amazing." I answered hungrily.

She smiled and shooed me back to my room, with the promise that she'd bring me a plate shortly. I was basking in the afternoon sun on the balcony with my journal when she returned with a sandwich, a side salad of sliced cucumbers, and a small bottle of sparkling water. With a maternal pat on the shoulder she left me in peace.

I labored over the apology in my journal and after half an hour felt comfortable with the eighth version of my message.

_Dear Eric,_

_I'm so sorry I left without the chance to speak with you.  
I owe you an apology for handling the situation on the press line so poorly. Hopefully I can explain  
myself fully when we're both back in NYC, but the bottom line is I panicked, and I feel terrible that I left you hanging._

_All is well here – I arrived in Spetses a couple of hours ago.  
Hope your conference in Rome is a success._

_- Sookie._

Rereading it, the message didn't seem like much. You'd never know I'd spent so much time writing it, but I hoped it struck the right balance of sincerity and vagueness to allow me the chance to talk to him in person. I'd written versions that attempted to explain myself in more detail, but I was worried about the potential for misinterpretation. The last thing I needed to do was make the situation worse.

The big decision was how to sign off. I'd removed _'Looking forward to seeing you next week'_ - it felt a little desperate. I might be feeling a little desperate, but he sure didn't need to know that.

I pulled out my blackberry, typed and proofread my message carefully, then hit send before I could second-guess myself. I held the device expectantly, hoping he would send me a reply. I looked at my watch again – it was 7:20 a.m. in New York. The chances were pretty good he would be up. I nearly jumped out of my chair from shock when the device buzzed. It was a return receipt…Eric had opened the message. I stared at the tiny screen for five minutes, willing a reply to appear, but eventually dragged myself to the shower so I could clean up for the rest of the day.

Once showered and dressed, I set out to explore Spetses. My time on the island was short and I wanted to make the most of it. I waved to Mrs. Antonopoulos on the way out the door and felt a bounce in my step at the prospect of an afternoon and evening in an unknown city.

I wandered the streets at a leisurely pace, soaking in the local vibe and ducking into shops that piqued my interest. A couple of times I checked my blackberry in the hope that I'd have a response back from Eric, but both times I tucked it back in my bag, more than a little let down. I moved beyond the busy harbor to check out the shipyards and a historic home that had been converted to a museum, then returned to the strip of tavernas, my mind set on fresh fish and a cold glass of white wine.

The hostess seated me at a tiny table on the far perimeter of the restaurant, overlooking the water. The dusky evening sky brought out the dancing reflection of lights on the water to lovely effect. As was my customary habit, I pulled my sketchbook from my bag and drew the harbor before me while waiting on my meal. My dinner of salt crusted snapper and grilled eggplant paired with a crisp white wine from Santorini would go down on my list of all-time best meals.

I was just finishing up when over my shoulder a male voice asked, "Excuse me, is this chair taken?"

Before I could answer, a beady-eyed man in his early forties with well-oiled dark hair slid into the chair across from me. I groaned internally – this was the downside of traveling alone.

I smiled politely but unencouragingly. "No, it's not taken, but I was just leaving." I looked for my waiter and indicated I'd like the check.

"Why is a beautiful woman like you eating by herself?" he leered in a smooth tone that came from much practice. I imagined this was his modus operandi.

"Because I enjoy solitude," I said, and then busied myself by looking through my bag to ignore him. I'd learned over the years of unwanted advances while traveling, that short answers without engaging further were the best way to handle creeps. The waiter brought me the check and I hastily calculated a tip and left it all on the table, gathering my bag to leave.

"Where are you off to so fast?" he asked. "Is this your first time on Spetses? Let me show you around." He ran a finger down the side of my hand. I jerked away like I'd been touched by a hot iron. My heart pounded at his unwelcome touch.

"I'm meeting friends. Have a good night," I clipped coldly, and shot out of the restaurant with him close on my heels. A nervous energy shot through me, and my overactive imagination could envision the headlines: _American Tourist Missing In Greece_. Nancy Grace would probably have a heyday with this for weeks.

"Relax, there's no need to run, pretty lady," I could hear that he wasn't too far behind me. I ignored him and sped up as much as I could without looking like I was scared.

I could hear light footsteps behind me. After another half-block he called, "Don't be afraid of me. I just want to get to know you."

Luckily I'd scouted out where I'd be meeting Sofia in my earlier explorations, so I was able to find it quickly and without consulting a map. Relief washed over me when I caught a glimpse of the bar. I hoped that Sofia would be waiting inside, and decided to buy myself at least a minute to find her unencumbered by my unwanted company.

I stopped abruptly and wheeled around to face my pursuer, squared up my shoulders, and put on my business face. "Listen, creep. I don't know what kind of women you're used to picking up around here, but I'm not one of them. You back off, and you leave me alone, or I _guarantee _you will regret it."

I didn't really have anything to back up my guarantee, but he didn't need to know that. He seemed a bit surprised by my little speech, gave me a dirty look, and skulked off into the shadows of a side street. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking with anger and fear, but I was relieved to get him off my back. It was a good reminder that I needed to stay sharp and never let my guard down.

I took a deep breath, ran a hand through my hair, and dove into the fray of the bar in search of Sofia. I found her draped over the lap of a hunky guy whom I assumed to be Alexandros, and surrounded by another four guys. They all bore the similar coloring and tanned skin that spoke of hours spent in the strong Mediterranean sun.

"Sookie!" she squealed and launched herself out of Alexandros' lap to give me a hug. "Come, let me introduce you." I supposed I'd known this was coming, but it didn't make it any more comfortable for me. I felt like I was on the set of the Dating Game but my potential suitors weren't behind a wall. Politely I bounced from one guy to another, making conversation, and eventually relaxed into having a good time.

One guy in particular, Dimitris, caught my attention. He was funny and charming, and immediately put me at ease with self-deprecating stories of his childhood in Athens. It didn't hurt that he came in an attractive package either – at a little over six feet, he had laughing caramel eyes flecked with green and an easy smile punctuated by a dimple.

While Dimitris was at the bar buying me a drink, I fished my blackberry out to see if Eric had sent me a message. Once again, I dejectedly stowed it back in my bag, but my disappointment faded when Dimitris tapped me on the shoulder and handed me my gin and tonic. We were seated on barstools near the side of the bar that opened onto the night air and views of the harbor and town center. Things were getting a bit flirtatious – a lingering touch on the arm while telling a story, the accidental brush of hands while reaching for a napkin, knees that knocked and then stayed in contact. Sofia threw a glance in my direction and winked at me.

Her wink brought me back to reality. Sure, I was on vacation and I was just having fun, but I couldn't really do this. Not with Eric in the picture. I stared into my gin and tonic. Actually, Eric _wasn't_ really in the picture.

I was jarred out of my thoughts when I looked up from my drink and caught a glimpse outside of the creep from the restaurant sitting on a bench staring at me. An icy chill ran through me, and without thinking, I instinctively threw my arms around Dimitris and laid a passionate kiss worthy of an Oscar nod on him. He was just beginning to respond in kind when I broke the kiss and looked outside at the now empty bench. Sighing with relief, I turned back to a stunned Dimitris.

"I'm…uh…..sorry about that," I stammered and blushed furiously. "There was a guy outside who was giving me trouble earlier – I thought he might take the hint and leave me alone if he saw me….well, you know….." I trailed off too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

"Oh, I see how it is - I feel so used," Dimitris mocked with a crooked grin. "But I won't complain. Maybe we should try to find him so we can run him off again?"

I laughed. "Actually, I should be getting back to the inn. I'm exhausted from the flight and I want to enjoy as much of the day tomorrow as I can."

Dimitris flashed a disappointed look at me, but was kind enough not to push me to stay. "I'll walk you home. Make sure you get back safely."

I paused and considered. Normally I would have refused, but with the creep out there somewhere, I was grateful for his offer. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that."

I said goodbye to everybody and confirmed beach plans with Sofia before leaving.

"That didn't take long," teased Sofia. "I told you there were a couple of catches."

I rolled my eyes. "He's just walking me home."

"Whatever," she laughed. "Just let me know tomorrow how the 'walk' was."

"Pffft. Goodnight, Sofia. See you tomorrow."

Dimitris guided me through the crowded bar to the exit, his hand on the small of my back radiated warmth. When we stepped outside he clasped my hand in his. I shot him a look.

"It's for the best, you know. More convincing in case that guy's still around."

I didn't protest. After all, it was just holding hands…and it was nice.

We chatted easily on the walk home, swinging our clasped hands playfully. But when the inn came into view, I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach. I pushed the wooden gate open, then turned to Dimitris. Before I could get out my intended thank you and good night, he backed me through the gate, and closed it behind us.

The intoxicating scent of jasmine hung heavy in the night air, and the night chorus of owls, crickets, and rustling leaves was accompanying by the distant sound of waves intermittently crashing against the seawall.

I swallowed and began shakily, "Dimitri, I…."

"Shhhh," he whispered and bent to lightly brush his soft lips against mine. A tingle ran the length of my spine. I closed my eyes and considered my next move with a morsel of regret.

"Dimitri," I said in a low voice, gently pushing back from his embrace. I looked him in the eyes and shook my head. "I'm sorry if I led you on this evening, but I can't do this. I wish I could….and maybe I'll regret it….but I just can't."

He tilted my chin up a bit with his finger. My heart was pounding and I could feel my resolve slipping.

"You still have tomorrow night. Could I see you again?"

I looked down at my feet to avoid the eyes that were pulling me in like a tractor beam. "I don't know, Dimitri," I said with very little conviction.

He closed the gap between us. "Don't answer now. Just think about it," he breathed into my ear, eliciting a shiver from my only too eager body. He kissed my softly on the cheek, then slipped out the gate.

I leaned against the gate and closed my eyes. Yes, I would be thinking about it. I'd be thinking about it like a dieter who skipped dessert only to be offered a behind the scenes tour of the Ben & Jerry's factory. I pulled my blackberry out to check my messages and disgustedly threw it back in my bag.

I might be the world's biggest fool.


	17. Chapter 17

**_a/n Again, thank you to svmaddict for being my Greek hook-up with wonderful ideas and suggestions....and Miss Construed for sage advice. I hope you enjoy the chapter!_**

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I was keyed up after Dimitris' departure and tiptoed through the inn, up the creaky stairs to my room. My usual nighttime routine helped me to collect myself, and I was soon snuggled into bed. Sleep eluded me despite the fact that I'd gotten very little over the last couple days. I tossed and turned – thoughts of Eric and Dimitris bombarded my mind. Throwing back the covers, I pulled a blanket around my shoulders and wandered out to the balcony and let my restless mind run.

The trail of moonlight reflected in the sea calmed and entranced me, and after some time leaning over the balcony to take in the view, I curled up into a cushioned lounge chair. The lack of communication with Eric over the last few days frustrated me to no end, but I knew I'd made the right decision about Dimitris. What I wanted was Eric, and I owed it to myself, and to him, to have the patience to sort things out….even if nothing ultimately developed between us. A self-gratifying fling wasn't going to do anything to make me feel better. Well, it might make me feel better momentarily, but I would regret it in the long run.

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Sofia sat casually draped over a large stone pylon near the water taxi stand with a big smile on her face. "Hello, sunshine!" she greeted me.

I tried to ignore the not-so-subtle implication behind her smile and lilting voice.

"Good morning...uh, make that afternoon," I answered with a glance down at my watch. "Ready to go?"

We started toward the taxis, but she pouted. "You're not going to tell me anything about last night? Dimitri was grinning like a school girl when he came back from walking you home."

I took a deep breath and treaded carefully. "Dimitri is a really nice guy – such a gentleman…"

"Oh, no. I can tell a big 'but' is coming."

"Sofia, I'm pretty hung up on somebody already."

She looked at me for a beat. "That guy…..the friend you were telling me about?"

"Yes. Eric."

"But there's nothing wrong with a fun fling…," she countered with a cocked eyebrow.

I shrugged. "I don't want to do that. And I didn't intend to lead Dimitri on in any way – it just…." Sofia interrupted me before I could continue.

"Oh, I know how it goes," she said waving off my concern, then added with a grin, "and you still have a few hours to change your mind." I rolled my eyes at her relentlessness. We boarded the water taxi with a few other beachgoers. The engine of the taxi roared to life with a cloud of hazy blue exhaust, and within seconds we were skipping across the water to Vrelos Beach.

My inner sun-seeker couldn't have been happier. The relatively thin strip of beach was dotted with lounge chairs and beach umbrellas, and hammocks hung in the shade between the trees. Sofia and I scouted out a perfect sunny spot close enough to hear the music from the rustic wood structure that dispensed drinks and snacks, but a safe distance from the boisterous crowd gathered around an impromptu volleyball game.

A few dips in the crystal blue water kept me from melting in the strong Mediterranean rays. Sofia was great company – we gabbed non-stop about our personal lives and lots of celebrity gossip. After almost three hours we decided to call it quits and head back to town. Sofia packed up quicker than I did and headed to buy bottles of water for the ride back.

My blackberry slipped out of my bag while I was loading up my beach gear. The indicator light was blinking, signaling I'd recently received a message. I sighed, hoping it wasn't Holly emailing me with a problem in the office. My breath caught and I swallowed hard when I saw it was a message from Eric. Finally.

_Sookie,  
Glad you made it okay.  
We really need to talk.  
E_

A flutter rippled through my stomach. Yeah, no kidding.

I typed back:

_Everything ok with you?  
I'll be back at my hotel in 30 mins.  
Do you want me to give you a call then?_

A couple of minutes later I had his reply.

_Am I ok? Yes and no.  
I think we should talk in person._

I sighed. I was tired of waiting, but I had to agree it would be better to talk face to face.

_When do you want to talk?  
I'm not back from Greece until next week._

I'd finished packing up my stuff and was walking to find Sofia when it buzzed again.

_Something came up – I'm in Greece too.  
Could you meet me at Rousso's at 5?_

I stopped breathing and I blinked several times and reread the message, thinking that I must have misread it the first time. No, my eyes hadn't deceived me….Eric was going to be here at 5. I looked down at my watch. In an hour and a half. My breathing sped up nervously at the thought, and I was momentarily afraid I might hyperventilate. Trudging through the sand, I pulled myself together by the time I reached Sofia.

"Ready?" she asked and handed me a bottle of water.

"Thanks. Yes…I actually need to get back pretty quick so I can get ready."

Sofia looked at me puzzled. "Ready for what? Are you going out with Dimitri after all?"

"Uh, no. Actually, I'm meeting up with Eric…"

"Wait…Eric?" A confused look rippled across her face.

"Uh, yeah…."I laughed a little nervously, "It turns out he's in Greece. We're meeting up at 5."

Her eyebrows shot up and a goofy look spread across her face. "Really? Wow! But, how…."

I shook my head, "I don't know. He just said he something came up here. He does a lot of work in Athens and has a conference that starts tomorrow in Rome, so who knows?" I shrugged.

"It sounds pretty romantic to me," she said and waggled her eyebrows. "Poor Dimitri will be crushed."

Mention of Dimitris made me thank my better judgment from the night before. We piled into the boat and I took out my blackberry to reread Eric's messages. Only then did I realize I hadn't responded to his last email, so hastily typed out and sent:

_I'll see you at Rousso's at 5.  
- S_

When I reread the messages a little doubt crept into my mind. That little doubt made me nervous…especially in light of our lack of communication these past days. Perhaps I just reading what I wanted into the emails.

"Sofia, will you do me a favor and read these? Give me your impression. And keep in mind that an incident of sorts occurred about a week ago and we haven't spoken since."

I knew trying to glean any meaning or motive from these brief messages was foolish, but it was the only communication I had to go on. She scanned through them and her brow furrowed a bit in thought. "Hmmm. It's hard to read much into them," she said and then consciously brightened the expression on her face, "but I'd assume it's positive."

I needed to relax and not worry. I'd know soon enough. The taxi dropped us at the dock in the harbor, and Sofia and I exchanged good byes and promises to keep in touch. She called good luck to me as I rushed off, which served to only ratchet up my nerves again.

Calling hello to Mrs. Antonopoulos, I flew upstairs and jumped in the shower. It was already four, and it would be a ten-minute walk to Rousso's, which didn't leave a lot of time for primping. Getting dressed was easier than usual since my options were severely limited. I decided on a navy and white printed sundress with a pale yellow cardigan and wedge espadrilles that laced around my ankles. Applying some light makeup in the mirror, I was pleased to see that the few hours at the beach had given me a nice summery glow. I had about 15 minutes before I needed to leave and decided to soak in the last of the afternoon sun and let my hair finish drying since I'd traveled sans hair dryer.

Stretched out on the lounge chair, I breathed deeply and looked out over the water to still my fidgeting self. The water had a calming effect and allowed me enough mental clarity for some reflection. It had been an interesting road so far with Eric. I smiled thinking back to the morning months ago at Muddy's when I'd drawn his portrait, wondering what his story was. Never in a million years would I have imagined that five months later I would count him among my friends…among my short list of favorite people….and would be waiting for him in Greece to presumably talk about "us".

The tranquility was broken by the blast of a distant horn, and I jerked my head to see the catamaran from Athens pulling into the harbor. My heart leapt in realization that Eric must be on the boat, and I sprang from my chair to do a little last minute primping before making my way to Rousso's. After a last glance in the mirror, I locked up my room and scrambled down the stairs, calling goodbye to Mrs. Antonopoulos. I made a concerted effort to walk at a normal pace so I'd still be shower fresh when I arrived.

My palms began to sweat as I approached Rousso's. The café on the water was a hotspot for tourists and locals alike – each time I'd passed it had been packed to the gills, and this afternoon was no exception. I approached the entrance, and the pretty raven-haired hostess smiled at me and asked if I'd like to be seated.

"Well, I'm supposed to be meeting somebody here – I don't know if he's arrived yet or not."

Her eyes darted behind me and she looked back at me with a smile, "I think he just did."

My stomach flipped, and I looked over my shoulder to see Eric walk up. He was wearing a white button down shirt with sleeves casually rolled back, khaki pants, Jack Purcell sneakers and a funny look on his face. His expression made my stomach flip again, but this time unpleasantly.

"Hi," I said, suddenly filled with dread.

"Hey," he returned with a half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He bent down and gave me a quick, awkward peck on the cheek. "Do you want to sit down and get some coffee or something?"

I swallowed hard. "Sure. I'm not really needing caffeine for once, but I can order something."

He paused. "Would you rather just go for a walk?"

"Uh..okay," I shrugged slightly. "The walkway on the seawall extends at least a mile that way," I pointed over my shoulder.

The easy rapport we'd built over the past months was gone. We walked side-by-side for a bit in uncomfortable silence. I wanted to speak to fill the void, but I wasn't quite sure what to say. At At least not anymore. We both started to talk at once, then stopped with a little laugh.

"Sorry, you go ahead," Eric said.

"No, it's just…um…what are you doing here?" I asked gracelessly.

"Well, like I mentioned, something important came up and…"

"No," I interrupted, "What are you doing here?" I looked up at him when I asked again and pointed at the ground to indicate _here_, as in Spetses.

"Why don't we sit down," he suggested, "there's a bench down there."

"What about right here," I pointed my toe to indicate the edge of the seawall.

He shrugged and we negotiated our way onto the edge of the big stone blocks, our legs dangled a few feet above the clear blue green water below. About a minute of silence passed before he spoke.

"Sookie, we've needed to talk for a while now," he began a little stiffly, and repositioned himself a bit so he was facing me.

I glanced up at him and gave him a fleeting smile and nodded my head in agreement. It felt like we were standing at the edge of a precipice.

"The thing is," he paused for a couple of seconds before continuing stiltedly, "I don't think I can be….friends with you anymore."

I felt all the air leave my body like I'd been sucker-punched in the stomach, and a horrible cold feeling spread through me. I looked down at the water absorbing what he'd just said. I began breathing again and my mind raced over the last few weeks, wondering how this had gone so wrong….how I'd managed to so clearly misread the situation.

"I should have said something a long time ago," he went on, "I don't know why I didn't…."

A wave of anger washed over me and I interrupted, "Why you didn't just _friend dump_ me at Muddy's instead of flying across the world to crap all over my vacation?" I snapped in a bitchy tone. My eyes filled with tears and my chest heaved with the exertion of containing a sob. I would _not_ let him witness me sob.

"What?" he asked bewildered. I glanced up at him through watery vision and concern spread over his face. "Wait," he said and rubbed his forehead with his fist. "Shit. Let me rephrase that. Your friendship is…..really important to me….but I want more than that. I want to date you. I was hoping I could take you out to dinner tonight."

I stared through the water to the rocks below processing his words.

"Oh," I said, a little dazed. I could feel a fat tear slide down my face and a half-laugh half-cry escaped. I took a couple of deep breaths and looked up at him. "I'd like that." I could feel that my face was mottled with tears.

"You'd like which…" he asked with a crooked grin, "dating or dinner?"

"Both," I said quietly with a little laugh, looking him steadily in the eye.

Eric reached out a hand and lightly brushed my tears away with his thumb, then slid his hand through my hair to the nape of my neck, and guided me forward until our foreheads were touching. My eyes squeezed shut and I felt like my chest might split open from the intense cocktail of emotions rushing through me. We rested forehead to forehead in a sort of reflective interlude.

The harbor sounds were slipping away from me – the slap of waves on the seawall, the bugling of the gulls, the distant shouts of the fisherman. With eyes still closed, my undivided attention was focused on the man before me: his clean, masculine scent, the warmth of his skin, the minute movements and shifts of his body. Fingers stroked, then cupped my cheek, and his lips caught mine in a tender, searching kiss. I needed more, and grabbed a fist full of his shirt to gently tug him toward me, deepening the kiss. My heart threatened to beat of out of my chest. He snaked an arm around my waist to pull me against him.

The sound of teenage boys yelling excitedly in Greek made Eric laugh, causing him to break the kiss.

"You know Greek?" I asked a little breathlessly.

"Enough to understand they just told us to get a room," he chuckled.

I blushed a little at our unabashed public display of affection. "I guess teenagers are the same everywhere," I glanced back at the trio of gangly boys who'd already moved on. "So….how long are you here?"

"Don't worry, I'm not crashing your vacation. I have to catch the last catamaran back to Athens at 8:30 so I can take the early morning flight to Rome."

"Oh," I said glancing down at my watch disappointed. "We don't have much time."

"We don't now, but we will." A shiver ran down my spine. Eric brushed his lips teasingly against mine, then pulled away and got to his feet. He helped me up, then encircled me in his arms, pulling me against the length of body. I sank into his chest, relishing the physical contact.

"Ready for dinner?" The vibrations from his chest rumbled in my ear.

I wouldn't have minded standing there until I dropped, but his question made me realize that I'd built up quite an appetite.

"Yes, I'm starving," I admitted, and moved to take a step in the direction of the tavernas. Eric pulled me back by the hand and shook his head.

"We're going this way," he nodded to a line of bobbing caiques tied up a little further down the seawall.

"Where are we going in a boat?" I asked.

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. "You'll see."

A fisherman waved to Eric as we approached. "There you are, my friend. Ready to go?"

Eric helped me onto the unsteady boat, and the fisherman ensured I held my ground once onboard.

"Good evening, young lady. I'm Spyro." He said in a heavy Greek accent.

"I'm Sookie." We shook hands and I took a seat on a well-worn wooden bench that spanned the back of the rustic boat.

"Scholes Beach, right?" Spyros asked Eric.

Eric nodded in affirmation and took a seat next to me, then nuzzled his nose into my hair. I reached back with my hand and laid a hand on his cheek. A sense of well-being washed over me.

Spyros maneuvered the boat out of the harbor, past my inn, and skimmed along the perimeter of the island to a quiet cove that sheltered a crescent shaped beach and what looked to be a sleepy taverna. I looked at Eric in surprise.

"Is this the place that Thalia mentioned?"

Eric nodded. "When I told her I was coming to find you in Spetses, she insisted I bring you here for dinner."

I squeezed his hand and took in the beautiful surroundings as the boat easily plied through the calmer water to a worn wooden dock. The smell of grilling fish wafted across the air and my stomach grumbled.

"Enjoy Loula's," said Spyros, "I'll be waiting here when you're ready to go back."

A sandy path wound through the thick stand of pine trees that forested the hills sloping down to the cove. The path opened onto a clearing that was anchored by the charming taverna; it appeared to have been in business for decades. A handful of tables and chairs spilled outside on the pebbled lawn toward the beach. Set with small glowing oil lanterns and thick white cotton tablecloths, the tables would provide the perfect vantage spot to watch the sun dip below the horizon. A balding man who clearly had enjoyed the offerings of the kitchen over the years waddled out, introduced himself as Tassos, and offered us a prime table. We settled into our chairs and he brought out a bottle of water, glasses, and menus.

He fussed around our table pouring water and straightening the lantern and asked, "Honeymooners?"

I could feel my face flush and Eric reached under the table to grab my hand and laughed. "No, it's actually our first date."

"Ah! I'd say that's cause for celebration," he beamed. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

I surveyed the surroundings more carefully. Branches of an ancient tree behind our table stretched over the outside tables creating a canopy of sorts. Before us the impossibly blue water of the cove sparkled in the setting sun, and a couple of boats rocked in the distance.

I turned back to look at Eric. The sun glinted golden off his hair and illuminated his blue eyes. "This is perfect," I smiled, feeling slightly overcome by the events of the last hour. "Thank you, for…" I trailed off unable to pinpoint exactly what I wanted to say. Before I could complete my thought, Tassos returned with two glasses of white wine.

"Compliments of the house," he said, and then offered a toast. "To new beginnings!" he exclaimed and waddled away again.

"To new beginnings," I smiled.

"To us," Eric suggested. My heart jumped at the word, and we clinked our glasses.

There was so much I wanted to talk about, but we needed to place our order to get Eric back in time for the last boat. Tassos suggested he bring us a sampling of the house specialties. We eagerly agreed and tucked into a bowl of olives and a heavenly plate of grilled octopus charred to crispy perfection. Soon after came a grilled local fish, a Greek salad loaded with tomatoes, cucumbers and fresh feta, and a plate of fried zucchini rings.

I decided to pick up where I'd left off earlier. "Eric, thank you for coming to Spetses." I shook my head and continued, "I still can't quite believe you're here."

The sun had set, but some light still lingered in the sky. The flame from the lantern cast a warm glow on Eric's face. He turned my hand over and traced the lines of my palm with him thumb.

"We needed to sort things out," he said. "And since you skipped town early and we didn't talk Friday, I had no choice but to track you down in Greece," he chided with a smile.

I ran a hand back and forth across my forehead and winced. "Sorry about that. That flight moving up threw me into a tailspin." I took a sip of wine. "Eric, I also still need to properly apologize to you for the way I acted on the press line."

"It doesn't matter," he said shaking his head.

"No, please just hear me out. After everything with Andre and Felicia, the thought of having our photo taken together freaked me out. I hoped that you and I would end up, you know, together….but I wanted everything to be on our terms."

"I know. I get it." He said.

"You looked so angry…I felt terrible." I continued, shaking my head.

"I _was_ angry for not thinking it through. You were absolutely right to get out of there." He scooted his chair a little closer to mine, and leaned in to kiss me on the corner of the mouth, and then lightly dragged his lips across my cheek to my ear. "Let's talk about other things," he murmured into my ear. His warm breath sent a shiver through me and erased any desire I had to speak.

"Like what?" I managed to ask.

"Tell me about your trip so far."

I took a deep breath and recounted the last day and a half - meeting Sofia on the boat, exploring town, dinner and the creep, and drinks afterward with Sofia and her friends. Eric zeroed in on the creep with concern, wanting to know more. I paused a moment, thinking about what I wanted to share. I didn't want to lie to Eric, but I also didn't want to rock the boat.

"He followed me to the bar, but I confronted him and he ran away. Later, in the bar, I saw him outside staring at me so I….made him think I was there with somebody else."

Eric paused for a moment and swallowed. "That was smart," he said in a measured voice. "Weren't you worried about walking home? There are only a handful of taxis on the island."

"Well, one of the guys, Dimitri, offered to walk me home. It seemed like a good idea."

Eric said with a tight voice, "That was…nice of him. I guess I got here just in time, huh? Before you got swept off your feet by some chivalrous Greek guy."

I laughed, "Oh, he tried." I was trying to bring some levity to the conversation.

Eric arched an eyebrow and looked at me questioningly. I leaned across the table and pulled him within range, then laid a kiss on him.

"He _was_ pretty cute. And charming." I could feel Eric stiffen. I kissed him again lightly. "But the thing is, I'd already been swept off my feet by somebody else." The hint of a smile crossed his face and he kissed me with an intensity that made me curse the 8:30 catamaran.

He drew back and checked the time. "We'd better be getting back. _I'm_ walking you home tonight."

Tassos brought the check to our table, and Eric fished out some bills and handed it back to him. We thanked him for a memorable meal.

"I hope we'll see you back someday. Best wishes to you both." Tassos boomed with pats on the shoulder for both of us.

I took a last look around in an attempt to burn everything about the evening into my memory, then slipped my hand in Eric's and set back down the path to the boat. Spyros was perched on the bow of the boat whistling. He busied himself with preparations for departure when he caught a glimpse of us coming, and by the time we reached the dock, the motor was running.

Once seated, Eric draped an arm around my shoulder and traced circles in my palm with his free hand. I curled into his warmth, and he gripped me a little tighter against the cooler evening air. I appreciated the nighttime view of the island from this perspective. The lights in the buildings and streetlamps becoming more frequent as we approached the harbor. The catamaran was already docked when we pulled into view. The hulking boat taunted me, and I resisted the urge to pout. Eric and Spyros settled up and we walked hand in hand back down the seawall toward the town square. It was a little unsettling walking toward the inn, holding hands with a second man in as many nights. I pushed the memory of Dimitris out of my mind and focused on being present with Eric.

"When are you back in the city?" I asked.

"Not until next Wednesday."

Next Wednesday suddenly seemed like an eternity. "Just in time for the Party of the Year post-mortem meeting, huh?"

"If all the planets align I should be back in time for it."

"I'm sure that yet another Party of the Year meeting is at the top of your list of things to do," I joked.

"No, it's not exactly at the top of my list….but watching you in action is always fascinating. I'd buy tickets for that."

I playfully elbowed him and he swooped down to catch me in a kiss that made me laugh out loud. The inn came into view, and a little sadness edged into my heart knowing our time together was coming to an end. Eric opened the wooden gate and I pulled him in after me so we could have a private goodbye, away from the foot traffic of the street.

A couple was hovering near the entrance to the building, so we wandered further down the path and beyond the pool to a waist high stonewall overlooking the sea.

I looked up at Eric and said, "Thank you for everything….coming here to find me, an amazing dinner….just a perfect evening. I would invite you in if your boat wasn't leaving in…." I checked my watch, "fifteen minutes." I let out a small sigh and hoped it was imperceptible.

"Don't tempt me," he warned. His eyes burned into me and my heart sped up. I stretched to wrap my arms around his neck and pulled him into the kind of kiss I'd been thinking about for months. A powerful arm wrapped around my lower back and pulled me even closer. I involuntarily threw my head back as he nipped along my jawline and my breathing grew unsteady. "I told you not to tempt me," he growled low in my ear, stirring a pulse below my navel.

"It _is_ cruel….starting something we can't finish," I practically panted in a low voice and tried to push back, but his arms were unyielding in their grip.

Teeth lightly raked my earlobe. "Mmm…I guess we'll call it food for thought," he whispered. His hands took their time progressing the length of my body - thumbs grazed the outer swell of my breasts, dipped along the curve of my waist and ended with a palmed squeeze of my ass.

"You're such a tease," I laughingly groaned.

"I could say the same about you. You've been driving me insane for weeks…._months _now."

He'd backed me up against the wall, and our eyes locked. Amusement faded, replaced by a shared look that lay bare the feelings that we'd been keeping lightly under wraps until just a few hours ago. Eric fingered a stray lock of my hair and pushed it back from my face with care.

"I have to go."

I nodded, "I know."

"Do you want me to walk you to the door?"

"No, I think I'll just stay out here for a while."

I didn't have the time or even the words to express myself, so I tried to pour the entirety of what I was feeling into a goodbye kiss. Judging by Eric's expression when he pulled away, I think I succeeded at least on some level.

"Sookie," he rasped. A finger trailed down my cheek. "I'll be thinking about you."

"Goodnight," I called softly to his retreating form. He melted into the shadows and after several moments I heard the latch of the wooden gate close with a dull thud.

My eyes closed and I emptied my lungs with a long exhalation. I lightly pressed a palm to the cheek where I could still feel the remnant of his touch. My head dropped back and I took a deep breath, popped open my eyes and felt the muscles of my face lift into a serene expression. Something seemed to relax deep inside of me, a part of me that I'd never realized was kept wound so tightly.

The harbor traffic had slowed down considerably judging by the moving navigation lights in the distance. I watched a small dinghy motor past in fascination until I heard the blast of the catamaran. It slowly pushed forward from the harbor, then gathered speed until the lights of the boat finally faded into the night. I stared at the spot where the boat disappeared for some time.

I'd expected to be disappointed when he left that night, but the feeling never came. I knew he'd be coming back to me.


	18. Chapter 18

**_a/n Oh, hello, dear readers. Allow me to reintroduce myself...I'm Pfloogs72 and I've been MIA for about 6 weeks. I'm so sorry for the incredibly long hiatus. Some of my excuses are excellent and others are just too stupid for words. But, I'm back and I plan to update regularly until the end of this story. Thanks so much for hanging in there - I can't tell you how much I appreciate you sticking with the story._**

**_And once again, thank you to Miss Construed. She allows me to bounce ideas off her and I was pretty needy this time around. Go read her stories if you haven't already - they're fantastic._**

**_Hope you enjoy!_**

Through the scratched pane of thick glass I watched wave after sapphire wave rhythmically pass. The drone of the engines propelled the boat over the stretch of open sea until a faint mass of land rising above the water indicated we'd hit the southern-most island of the Sporades chain. I studied the little map in one of the books Eric had loaned me, and deduced we were passing Skyros. Our path should thread between a couple of islands before finally reaching Skiathos in another hour or so.

I flipped through the dog-eared pages of the book, tracing a fingertip over the occasional note in the page margins, learning Eric's scrawl. A small smile crept across my face. The events of the last 24 hours still seemed surreal. In fact, they became more unreal as each hour passed. I continually returned to the text messages on my blackberry and the playlist on my iPod for tangible evidence that Eric, and our new status, weren't some elaborate figment of my imagination.

A giddy pressure had taken up residence in my chest after Eric left last night, and at times throughout the day it threatened to nearly overwhelm me. After circling each other for months I wasn't surprised that we'd taken a step forward, but the thought of Eric's grand gesture took my breath away. I suspected that regardless of what should transpire between us in the future, the memory of last night – and the notion that Eric would go to such great lengths to initiate our relationship - would continue to take my breath away for the rest of my days.

I closed my eyes and tried my best to momentarily push thoughts of him out of my mind so I could focus on the remainder of my vacation. As eager as I was to get back to Eric in New York City, I wanted to enjoy the rest of my time in Greece and soak up everything that Skiathos had to offer. The rise and fall of the boat over the swells coupled with the vibrations of the engines lulled me into a relaxed state. We passed close enough to an island that I could make out the topography. Craggy cliffs sparsely topped by gnarled pine trees dropped into the sea and a fringe of gleaming beach dotted with beachgoers hugged the island. The sight of the beach activity made me itch to get off the boat and explore the island that would be my home base for the next few days.

At last we slid into the harbor of Skiathos Town. A geometric tumble of white buildings clung to the hillside that encircled the bustling little harbor. I waited for the crush of people to exit before disembarking, and before long was winding over a hillside road in a taxi en route to my hotel. The boxy white structure, topped with the ubiquitous orange tile roof, sat atop a hill outside of town on a perch that promised to offer endless views of the Aegean Sea.

The clerk at the front desk smiled and took a closer look at me when I gave her my name. "Welcome, Miss Stackhouse. Let me show you to your room." Key in hand, she led me across the airy lobby to a floating staircase and up to the second floor. The hotel interior was an unexpected spare and contemporary design within the traditional structure. The heavy use of natural materials – stone, wood, and metal – made the combination of old and new feel organic rather than forced and was surprisingly inviting. I gasped slightly when the door to my room swung open; a balcony running the entire length of the room provided a spectacular open sea vista.

"This room is phenomenal," I enthused as I took in the view, the substantial platform bed, and the modern, understated décor of the expansive space. A vase of wildflowers indigenous to the island caught my eye. "What beautiful flowers," I murmured and stooped a bit to take in the delicious fragrance from the informal arrangement of freesia, poppies and irises.

"The flowers are from Mr. Northman," the clerk smiled and nodded her head back towards the arrangement. I looked back to the flowers and only then noticed a folded card propped against the vase and my heart leapt. "In fact, he asked that we be sure to give you this particular room." I gave her what must have been a quizzical look because she whispered conspiratorially in explanation, "It's our best room."

"Oh," I said, touched by Eric's thoughtfulness and looked around the room once again. "It's lovely. Thank you."

"It's our pleasure, dear. We've grown quite fond of Mr. Northman over the years and were happy to accommodate his request." She showed me a few features of the room before leaving. As soon as the door clicked shut I made a beeline for the note that I presumed was from Eric.

_Sookie,  
Enjoy exploring Skiathos.  
I'll be thinking of you.  
Eric_

A smile crossed my lips and I bent down to breathe in the sweet scent of the freesia more deeply, then refolded the note and tucked it safely away in my sketch book.

My days in Skiathos were incredibly unambitious. I'd had grand plans to get out, explore, and even do some island hopping, but ended up splitting the majority of my days between the beautiful beaches and the hotel's infinity pool. I booked a couple of in-room massages. I read and I sketched. I even napped….and I'd never been a napper. I felt a little guilty not pushing myself to see more, but I'd never had such a blissful time doing next to nothing; it was just what I'd needed to recover from the frenetic pace of the last few months.

I also found myself wishing more frequently than I'd care to admit that I wasn't traveling by myself. I wasn't lonely; I simply wanted to share the experience with somebody else. And not just anybody else, of course…I wanted to share it with Eric.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I was tanned and rested if not 100% ready to jump back into the swing of things at the office on Monday morning. The next two weeks until Memorial Day weekend were solidly booked with events every weekday evening, so I spent my commute to the museum trying to shift mental gears into work mode. I couldn't help but smile to myself when I passed the main entrance doors into the Great Hall, thinking what had changed for me personally since I'd last passed through them only ten days ago.

Eric wouldn't be back until Wednesday so I'd be able to get into the swing of things before seeing him, although it was such a busy week at work I wouldn't be able to spend any time with him until the weekend. It was only Monday and I already thought that Friday couldn't possibly come soon enough.

"Welcome back, Sookie," Holly greeted when I opened the door to the Special Events Department.

"Holly!" I couldn't disguise my surprise at seeing her in the office early. "How was everything last week?"

"No problems at all," she replied with a confidence I hadn't previously witnessed.

"I wanted to arrive early so I could run through everything with you before the day starts."

She caught me up to speed on the status of the upcoming week's events and a couple of issues that had popped up while I was gone. Holly had seemingly managed the department quite capably in my absence.

"Sounds like we're in good shape," I smiled at Holly warmly. "Thanks for holding down the fort. I was able to fully forget everything about the office for a bit knowing you had it all under control."

Holly beamed back. "Thanks for trusting me. Oh, and before I forget, Mr. Thornhill would like you to give him a call this morning to discuss some last minute details for his event on Thursday."

"I'll call him now, thanks." Holly excused herself and I pulled out the file for the Thornhill Investments event Thursday night and settled into my desk. Thomas Thornhill was one of my favorite museum trustees. He was more forward thinking than most of the trustees as well as friendly and approachable. Thursday night he was hosting a event under the guise of a client dinner, but I knew in reality it was an anniversary-cum-birthday celebration for his wife whom he fondly called "Mrs. T". Private events were not allowed in the museum, but we were turning a bit of a blind eye in light of his importance to the institution.

Mrs. T had a relaxed attitude and spiritedness rarely found in Manhattan socialites. She abhorred pretension, so it fit perfectly when Mr. Thornhill got Jimmy Buffett on board to play a set at the dinner. Our department was excited about the event and had kept news of Buffett under wraps to avoid swarms of museum staff from sneaking into the Temple of Dendur to watch the performance. I was just hanging up the phone with Mr. Thornhill when Sam announced his arrival with a quick knock on the door and a goofy bow.

"Well, don't you look lovely, Ms. Stackhouse," Sam said. "I'd even venture to say you're positively glowing. I suppose you met a handsome Greek who squired you around the country?" He winked at me and I could feel a blush instantly rise to my cheeks.

Deflecting his question with a laugh and a shake of the head, I quickly changed the subject before he could continue with his line of questioning. For now I wanted to keep my new relationship with Eric private – especially at the museum.

"I brought you a little something from my trip," I said, and pulling a small package from my bag, gave him a quick hug.

He pulled the paper from the glass jar and scrutinized the label. "Thyme honey? Sounds delectable. You're a dear...thank you, Sookie"

"Oh, it's nothing…just a little taste of Greece. I appreciate all the kindness you've shown me since I've arrived."

He gave me a playful chuck under the chin. "Aside from collecting some honey, which I'm very excited about, I was dropping by to see if I you'd like to have lunch this week. Perhaps Friday?"

My face cracked into a grin, "Friday would be great."

"Alrighty then, little lady, I'm going to scoot back to my office. I'm glad to have you back at the museum." He winked again and with a wave was gone.

I penciled lunch into my calendar and set to work on the rest of the week.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

My stomach was all butterflies when I arrived for the Party of the Year postmortem meeting. The atmosphere was jovial and celebratory, and I entered the room to a chorus of congratulations and pats on the shoulder for a job well done. It felt great to have a big success under my belt. My nervousness of course wasn't in anticipation of any potential criticism, but rather from the text I'd received from Eric half an hour ago that he was in a taxi from the airport and would be able to make it to the meeting after all.

I took a seat next to Lafayette and gave him the quick and dirty narrative of my trip, leaving out the Eric bits, of course. He'd know soon enough and this was neither the time nor the place to discuss it.

I'd nonchalantly left my folder in front of the seat next to me hoping that it would deter anybody from sitting there until Eric arrived. I kept an eye on the door, but knew my plan was a bust the second I saw Quinn cross the threshold. Sure enough, he zeroed in on me and crossed the room to where I was seated. A ridiculous wave of disappointment crashed over me.

"Is that yours, Sookie?" he asked, pointing to my folder.

My inner ten year old actually considered lying. "Oh, yeah. Sorry….let me move that," I answered and slid it underneath my notepad.

Moments later, Sophie-Anne walked in with Catherine, Pamela, and Eric. While the room burst into a spontaneous round of applause for Sophie-Anne, Eric's eyes sought out mine and he gave me a hint of a smile as he took an open seat across the table. I flashed a quick smile back at him before retraining my eyes on Catherine and Sophie-Anne.

I struggled to maintain focus in the meeting, but I was hyperaware of Eric's every move in my peripheral vision. Sophie-Anne's comments were gracious and complimentary. Usually I would have hung on her every word, however my thoughts kept drifting to the memory of Eric's kiss, remembering the sensation of his hand trailing down my body. Unable to resist, my eyes flicked to him and met his gaze for the briefest of moments. My pulse quickened and I glanced hastily down at my notepad and doodled to regain my composure.

Sensing Lafayette's eyes boring into me, I turned my head to him.

"What?" I mouthed.

He simply raised an eyebrow in response. I put on my best innocent face, gave him an offhand shrug as though I didn't know what he was talking about and turned back to my notepad. Nothing got past Lafayette. When the meeting broke Lafayette cleared his throat dramatically to get my attention. I drew in a deep breath and turned to him.

"We _will _be talking later," he said with a significant look.

I sighed and conceded, "Yes, Lafayette. We will talk later."

I'd planned on telling him anyway….just not so soon. I gathered my things and said goodbye to people as I moved toward Eric who was hovering near the exit. I'd nearly reached him when I heard Catherine's voice just over my shoulder.

"Sookie. Do you have few minutes? I'd like to run over a couple of items in my office with you."

I looked at Eric; his smirk and quick incline of the chin told me we'd just catch up once I was done with Catherine. I turned to face Catherine and smiled.

"Sure, I've got time. Shall we go up now?"

We spoke for nearly half an hour about the Young Friends' Benefit and a couple of issues for next year's Party of the Year. I texted Eric when I left, but he was in a meeting with Christos. I sighed heavily and returned to my office. From the moment I sat at my desk I was embroiled in issues with the particularly difficult client who was holding the event that evening. There was no way I'd have a chance to talk to Eric today and I emailed him to let him know.

Three hours and several frantic phone calls later, the problems were resolved and everything was falling into place. By 7:30 p.m. I was exhausted, but the guests were arriving and the client was happy.

"Thanks for helping work everything out today, Sookie," said the client, Andy, as he smiled at an arriving guest. "I know I put you through the wringer."

"Not at all," I said. "That's why we're here."

"Also, I know the Museum Shop is already closed for the evening, but you wouldn't by chance be able to get your hands on one of those William Morris silk scarves would you? The wife of the company's president would really love one and I forgot to ask you earlier. I'd be so grateful if you could work your magic again."

I kept a smile plastered on my face and was amazed that I answered without my shoulders slumping. "I'm not sure, but let me see what I can do. I've got to run to my office and check, but I'll be right back."

There was a chance I had a sample scarf in my office closet, but as backup I was flipping through the list of contacts on my blackberry thinking of whom I could enlist at this hour to help me track down a scarf. I was concentrating on the device and was nearly across the darkened and empty Great Hall when a powerful arm hooked around my waist and pulled me partially behind one of the large columns that ringed the space. Wrapped in Eric's arms was the one place I wanted to be and the last place I should be at that moment.

"Finally…you're a hard woman to pin down," Eric rumbled in a husky voice then caught my mouth in a kiss that practically made my knees buckle. I sank into him momentarily before coming to my senses and pushing back from his chest and putting an arm's length between us.

"Eric!" I protested in hushed tones and glanced around the hall. "There are cameras _everywhere_! Not to mention lots of security guards around."

"Ahhh," he groaned in exasperation and his head fell back, "you're killing me, woman." He righted his head and looked me in the eye with a crooked grin. "I say we give Sam Merlotte something to talk about."

I reached out to give his hand a quick squeeze. "That's exactly what I _don't _want," I laughed. "I'm sorry, I but I'd just like this to stay between us right now," I said apologetically. "Can we keep it on the down low at the museum for now?"

"Of course...if that's what you want." The look he gave me made me want to throw that request out the window, haul him behind the information booth, and have my way with him. Instead I gave him an appreciative smile.

I needed to broach the subject of my schedule and decided just to have out with it. "So, my weekdays until Memorial Day weekend are impossible. Could we make a plan to do something this weekend?"

As Eric processed my words he gave a wry laugh, rubbing his hand over his forehead and shaking his head. "I've got to go out of town this weekend."

I couldn't keep the disappointment off my face. "Oh no…really?" I pouted. Just then my blackberry buzzed with an incoming message from Holly. I had to get back to the event soon and still needed to check on the scarf.

"You've got to run, I know….and I'm going to go crash from jetlag. Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?"

"One o'clock?" I asked.

"One o'clock." He squeezed my hand, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and was gone. I stood there by myself for a few moments frustrated by our conflicting schedules, then with a jolt remembered the scarf and raced off to my office.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"So where are you going this weekend?" I asked between bites of my sandwich. We'd found a shaded park bench on the far side of the boat pond, far beyond the range of other lunching museum employees. A dozen or so wooden replica sailboats haphazardly sailed the rectangular pool at the bidding of scampering children manning the controls.

"Vermont. It's Mother's Day and my Mom's birthday."

"Ah, a double whammy," I smiled. "I'm sure she'll love having you there."

"It'll be good to see my family, but it doesn't make it easy for us to see each other."

"Well, about that," I began a little nervously, biting my lower lip, "my friend Claudine has a cabin in the Adirondacks. I was thinking maybe you'd want to go with me for Memorial Day weekend?" I felt awkward suggesting a weekend away when we'd just started dating, but he'd flown to Greece to see me, so I gathered my courage and put it out there.

"Just you and me?" he asked with a raised brow. The heat behind his look made my breath hitch.

I was hit by a wave of bashfulness, swallowed hard and nodded. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, that's very okay," he replied in a low tone with a spark in his eye. "Come here," he said and pulled me onto his lap. My arms draped loosely around the expanse of his broad shoulders. The expression on his face dared me to kiss him. Any timidity I'd felt dissipated and I leaned forward to meet his lips. Ever aware of my surroundings I pulled away after a bit, but instead of letting me go he drew me closer to him. I relaxed against his chest and nestled my face into the crook of his neck. I knew at the moment we were one of those annoying, openly affectionate couples, but for once I simply didn't care.

"Tell me about the rest of your trip."

I leaned back to look at him. "You mean aside from the amazing room and the flowers?" I teased.

"You texted me about those last week," he chided. "What else?"

We talked about the very little I'd done the rest of the week in Skiathos, about Eric's time in London and Rome, about the upcoming events on my plate.

"So, I know you're a Jimmy Buffett fan. If you want to see him play swing by the Temple of Dendur tonight around 8:30."

"Sounds great, but I doubt I'll still be in the museum then," he said. After a couple of moments consideration Eric narrowed his eyes a bit and asked, "How did you know I like Buffett?"

"I've seen your iPod, remember?" I snickered and raised an eyebrow adding, "I also know you've got Avril Lavigne on there."

"One song," he said more than a little defensively.

"One song. Twenty songs. Doesn't matter…she's still there. And even if you take her off, I'll always know she was there once upon a time. In fact…."

A low growl emitted from Eric's throat, then his mouth was on mine in a movement so unexpected it made me gasp. Hands on either side of my face rooted me firmly in place as his tongue swept across mine. The intensity of his embrace slowly turned to gentle, searching kisses that made my stomach flip and drew me fully into his orbit. I was left in a bit of a daze when he pulled back. The man definitely knew what he was doing.

He surveyed me with an amused expression. "So, now what were you saying?"

I couldn't for the life of me remember what I'd been talking about, a fact that was reflected by my furrowed brow and tilted head. The corners of his mouth pulled up into a grin.

"Mission accomplished," he said with a cocky smile and looked down at his watch. "I need to get back to the museum."

I sighed and agreed reluctantly, "So do I."

We walked hand in hand down an empty sidewalk until we reached a busier thoroughfare and I wiggled my hand out of his grasp.

He glanced down and said with more than a hint of sarcasm, "Oh that's right. We're entering the no-fly zone."

I smiled at his joke but it left me with a slightly hollow feeling. I had to figure out how to best handle our relationship at work before it became an issue between us.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Holly, Halleigh and I looked around the Temple of Dendur, eyes slightly agog. It had never looked quite so….green. A wash of primarily green light with hints of aqua splashed the back wall. The table linens alternated between three different shades of green and centerpieces were composed of blue hydrangeas, white ranunculus and acid green Bells of Ireland. It was actually quite striking, but I chuckled to myself thinking that Sophie-Anne would have a stroke if she saw the room.

"So, what's the deal with green again?" Halleigh asked.

"It's the color of Mrs. T's alma mater," answered Holly. "She's a super fan."

I barked a quick laugh. "Even that's putting it mildly. She's definitely enthusiastic about the things that she loves. Fortunately the museum is one of them."

Holly continued my though, "And thankfully for us, Jimmy Buffet is one of them too."

"Oh yes," I agreed while taking a sip from a frozen margarita, the party's signature drink.

The guests were having a fantastic time. It was rare that an event was actually fun, but this evening had Mrs. T's fingerprints all over it, from the passed mini cheeseburger sliders during cocktails to the station where guests could get faux tattoos. It was very outside of the box for the Met and I loved it.

"I'm going to head backstage and make sure everything is set for Jimmy. Feel free to come on back to listen if you'd like."

I left them near the front doors to the Temple and found Jimmy's tour manager, Joey.

"We're cool," Joey said. "Let me show you the best place to watch," he said and he led me to a shadowy nook created by stacks of speakers and the stage curtains backstage right.

I took a spot leaning against a speaker and waited. Jimmy should be going on at any moment. Holly and Halleigh snuck in a moment later with Eric in tow. In response to what must have been a shocked look on my face, Holly quickly explained in a whisper,"I hope it's okay that I invited him back with us. He poked his head in so I told him he should come backstage too. I figured you wouldn't mind."

"No, no – of course it's fine. Don't worry about it." I smiled reassuringly at Holly and flashed a glance at Eric that I hoped didn't give anything away.

At that moment Jimmy walked up the backstage steps with guitar slung across his shoulder and came over to shake our hands.

"You my backstage crew tonight?" he smiled at we three women and nodded at Eric.

A round of tittering laughter emitted from the Special Events Department.

"Okay, let's do this," Jimmy said to no one in particular and gave the sound guy a signal. From mere steps away he began strumming the familiar opening chords to "Margaritaville", winked at me, then strolled out on stage to a round of whooping and wild applause from the raucous crowd.

My eyes were trained on Jimmy, but my other senses sought out Eric behind me; he was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Holly and Halleigh were half a step in front of me and a little closer to the stage, so I was outside of their field of vision. I stood rooted to my spot for some time swaying in time to the music, but eventually my need for physical contact of any kind with Eric won out and I took a slow step back.

My shoulder blade swept lightly against the fabric of his shirt a couple of times. The indirect contact alone made my breathing pick up. He stilled at the contact, then pressed forward against my back. To a casual observer we would appear to just be two people in cramped quarters. In reality, I was experiencing the exquisite torture of being so close to what I wanted without being able to have it.

Margaritaville transitioned into "A Pirate Looks at Forty". Holly turned back to me, "He sounds amazing!"

I smiled and nodded in agreement and she turned back to the stage.

Fingertips brushed casually across the back of my hand. If I didn't know better I would have thought it was an accidental touch. Goosebumps broke out across my arms when I felt his warm breath exhale near my ear.

"Are you here late tonight?" he asked in a low voice that didn't reach Holly or Halleigh.

I looked up and turned my head to the side so I could see him in my peripheral vision, silently cursed my job, and nodded. I doubted I'd leave before one o'clock based on the extensive lighting and stage setup.

"I came by to tell you I'd be leaving for Vermont around lunchtime tomorrow so I probably won't see you," he said.

My face turned to a pout but I nodded that I understood. I reached back and hooked my pinky finger around his thumb.

"We'll figure this out. Soon." he said. If we didn't figure it out soon I was going to spontaneously combust.

Holly turned around again to gauge my reaction to something funny that must have just happened onstage. I faked a laugh and an amused look and she turned back.

"I think I'm going to take off," he said. I breathed in deeply and held my breath. I was disappointed but knew it was silly for him to stick around. Releasing my breath I turned around to face him fully.

"Thanks for coming by…have a good time in Vermont."

"I'll see you Monday."

I nodded. His eyes flicked in the direction of Holly and Halleigh, then back to me. He gently pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, cupped my cheek for the briefest of moments, then leaned forward to tap Holly on the shoulder to wave goodbye.

Holly and Halleigh turned and waved in unison with huge grins on their faces before returning their attention back to the stage. Jimmy had launched into his third song - one that the entire crowd knew by heart:

_I really do appreciate the fact you're sittin here...Your voice sounds so wonderful...But your face don't look too clear..._

I had to shake my head and laugh before it even reached the chorus. I had long a three days ahead of me.


	19. Chapter 19

**_a/n I can't tell you how nice it was to hear from you reviewers after the last chapter...  
I'd missed you! Thanks for sticking with this story and letting me know what resonates with you.  
Thanks, Miss Construed for holding my hand through this chapter. Please go read her stories - they're amazing.  
*holds hand over eyes, blushes and pushes post*_**

"Will you be having a reuben today or are you opting for lighter fare?" Sam asked.

"The reuben, of course," I scoffed. "With fries."

"That's my girl," he said proudly and flagged down the waitress to place our order. Once he'd taken care of business he zeroed his attention in on me.

"The last I saw you before vacation you were in a bit of a dither," he started. I chuckled and nodded in agreement, thinking of my reaction to the email announcing the flight change. "And unless I've completely lost my keen sense of perception, I believe you were a little down in the dumps too."

At that I took a sip of iced tea and thought fast about how I wanted to handle this conversation.

"Well," I started in explanation, "I was wiped out after the party and stressed about packing."

He puckered his lips and squinted his eyes as though considering my explanation.

Apparently he decided to try another tactic. "You know, Eric Northman came into Zocalo's just a few minutes after you left that night." He eyed me carefully to gauge my reaction.

"Oh?" I responded coolly but my palms started to sweat a bit. I suddenly felt a little sympathy for all the perps who'd been questioned by Sam over his long career as a detective.

"Did you see him before you left for your trip?" he asked hopefully.

I smiled and truthfully shook my head no. Sam looked a little perplexed. I didn't want to endure any more questioning and I knew that Sam's heart was in the right place, so I took a deep breath and jumped.

"Sam, I want to tell you something in confidence," I began.

Sam leaned closer to me over his hands clasped on the table. "I'm all ears," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Eric and I are…seeing each other," I said, testing out the words as I spoke them.

A smacked hand on the table and an accompanying little whoop made me jump. "It's about time!" he exclaimed.

At that very moment the waitress brought our heaping plates to the table, giving me a short reprieve before what I was sure would be the start of Sam's twenty questions. I took the opportunity to head him off at the pass.

"Sam," I started a bit hesitantly, not wanting to hurt his feelings, "I'd rather not get into details or anything…and I do really want to keep word of this quiet at the museum for now."

"Mum's the word," he said and dramatically motioned locking his lips with a key and tossing it over his shoulder. "And I don't need details….I'm just glad to know the blockhead finally got off his duff."

I hissed a laugh and dug into my sandwich.

"And I better get an invite."

I shot him a puzzled look.

"To the wedding," he grinned.

"Oh for Pete's sake, Sam."

With a shrug and a smug smile he returned to his sandwich.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The weekend wasn't as interminably long as I'd anticipated. I made the social rounds to see my friends since I'd for all intents and purposes dropped off the face of the earth between preparations for the Party of the Year and my vacation.

Over dinner and drinks Friday night I caught Amelia and Lafayette up on my trip and news about Eric. They couldn't have cared less about my trip with the exception of my time in Spetses, and they were really only interested in a few hours of that. Sam's line of questioning was mild in comparison to the grilling I received. My only saving grace was that they were together; I mercifully only had to undergo the inquisition once.

It felt good to be back in Muddy's Saturday morning. I was breathing in the heavenly aroma of my steaming latte when two tiny arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I couldn't help but laugh when I caught sight of Thalia's beaming face.

She perched on the edge of a chair across from me and grabbed my two hands in a fierce grip. "I was hoping you'd be here."

I squeezed her hands back and smiled, feeling a bit bashful. It felt really good, albeit a little awkward, to tell my friends about Eric. It had nothing to do with Eric; it was just my own hang-up. The awkwardness was heightened with Thalia since she was one of Eric's best friends.

"I'm so glad you two are finally together." The sincerity of her voice and the warmth of her smile made my discomfort abate a bit.

"Thanks, Thalia. I'm really…happy." Happy was a wholly inadequate word for the way I felt.

"So am I. If Eric's happy, I'm happy." The smile slid off her face, replaced by a fierce expression. "But if you hurt him there will be hell to pay. You know that don't you?"

She broke into a laugh when my eyes widened. "I kid, I kid." She waved a hand and took a sip of coffee. "Kind of," she muttered then winked at me.

I studied her face and exhaled a quiet laugh. "Eric's lucky to have you."

"And you," she added. "He was climbing the walls when he couldn't get in touch with you the morning you left for Greece. I'd never seen him like that."

A rush of guilt for leaving without talking to Eric momentarily shot through me. I remembered my state of mind that morning, but had never considered what Eric had been thinking.

"I was here with him that morning," she said with an arched eyebrow as she took another sip. "When he got your text that you were already on the plane…" her words trailed off and she exhaled, shaking her head.

"Well, it didn't take him long to decide he was flying to Greece to find you." She shook her head again and smiled at me, "I've never known him to be such a romantic."

I could feel the heat of a blush creep up my neck. "Well, I suppose it's needless to say I was surprised," I said while casting my eyes down to my mug.

Thalia laughed and patted my forearm. "I think I've tortured you enough with this particular conversation."

A sigh of relief escaped my lungs and I pondered how starting a new relationship felt at times like the first day on a new job; eventually I'd settle in but it sure could be uncomfortable at first.

"You know what?" Thalia asked with a gleam in her eye. "We should go on a double date."

I smiled at the thought, "I can definitely get behind that idea."

"Great! We'll have the guys plan it out. Let's see what they come up with."

"Your idea just keeps getting better."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

My eyes snapped open just before my alarm clock sounded Monday morning. I hit the button to avoid the buzz then curled up on my side contemplating the day before me. It would be a long day of meetings capped with a corporate dinner in the Petrie Court, but I hoped to be able to see Eric at some point for a few minutes. My stomach flip-flopped at the thought. I hopped out of bed to get ready and speed the day to the point I'd see him.

Fortunately it didn't take long. He intercepted me as I was crossing the marble expanse of the Great Hall on my way to the elevators.

"Hey," he greeted me with a crooked smile. He kept a professional distance in the busy hall, but his eyes raked over my body, taking in my clingy wrap dress with a hungry look that was hardly appropriate between colleagues.

"Hey yourself," I said with an equally inappropriate look in return. My clothing selection had been calculated, and I sure didn't have my co-workers or clients in mind when I'd picked it out.

"You'll let me know if anything opens up in your schedule and you can get coffee or something?"

"I will. Surely I'll be able to carve out a little time somewhere."

We'd talked last night for a few minutes during his drive back from Vermont. As of yet we still didn't know if we'd be able to spend any significant time together before Friday. The situation would be laughable if I weren't for the fact that it was driving me increasingly crazy.

Eric and I caught glimpses of each other in the cafeteria at lunchtime when Halleigh and I met with a curator from American Paintings to discuss a reception for an upcoming opening. We'd made a plan to meet for a quick afternoon coffee in the American Wing Café, but I'd had to cancel last minute because of an important phone call that came through. I was ready to break something, and wondered how I'd possibly make it to Friday with my humor and sanity intact.

I shot Eric an email before leaving the office for the evening's event:

_Sorry about today – hoping I can see you at some point tomorrow. _

I sighed and shut down my computer, then headed downstairs to the Gabelli Funds dinner.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Thank you for coming this evening, please enjoy your dinner," the chairman of Gabelli Funds concluded his remarks. Conversations immediately started up again throughout the room, and the servers resumed pouring wine. Satisfied that all was in order, I whispered to Holly that I needed to run to the office for a few minutes. Tomorrow was busy and I needed to go over the schedule to make sure we had everything covered.

I was so focused on the task at hand that I didn't hear the approach of footsteps to my office. A light rap on the door startled me. One glance at Eric leaning against the doorframe with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder quickly replaced the jittery spike of an adrenaline rush with a flutter in my stomach.

"I tried to find you at the dinner before I left for home. Holly told me you were here."

I smiled up at him and crossed the office. "I needed to check on some things for tomorrow," I explained, encircling his neck with my arms as best I could given our height difference. I tried to pull him down for a kiss, but he strained in resistance with a glint in his eye.

"No cameras in here?" he asked, a sly grin on his lips.

I shook my head slowly from side to side. "Nope."

A hint of a smile remained, but his eyes turned predatory. The messenger bag hit the floor. Never breaking eye contact, he advanced slowly, pushing me back step by step until the backs of my thighs pressed against the edge of the desk. Heart racing, my breathing became unsteady.

His arms fenced me into my spot and he leaned over me, forcing me to arch backwards. I took his face in my hands and once again pulled him to me. This time he didn't resist and met my lips with a teasingly soft kiss. Desperate to deepen it, I pulled him closer. In a swift movement he lifted me onto the desk and gently pushed my knees apart, settling himself between them without breaking the kiss.

A corner of my mind wandered back to the progress of the dinner downstairs. I knew I should be getting back, but was unable to will myself to stop. Eric's hands skimmed up the tops of my bare thighs, and slid under the loose fabric of my wrap dress until his fingertips reached the edge of my panties. The tips of his index fingers barely pushed underneath and traced the edge up across my pelvis. His light touch made me squirm a bit. I could feel his mouth turn up into a smile against my lips.

"Ticklish?" Eric asked in a low voice.

I laughed a little and murmured back into his kiss. "Can't help it."

"Mmmm. Good to know."

Eric's hands slid around my hips to just below the small of my back and pulled me to the very edge of the desk, pressing his body against mine. My blackberry buzzed violently on the desk a couple of feet behind me, but I did my best to ignore it, concentrating instead on running my hands over Eric's chest and the advancement of his fingers down my neckline.

The blackberry buzzed again.

"Fudge," I muttered under my breath. My head fell backwards and Eric let out a low groan. It continued to buzz and I glanced back at the offending object. The screen was lit signaling an incoming call, so I stretched back with one arm to pick it up and answered the call from Holly.

"Hey, Holly." I said, a little out of breath.

"Did you get my text? Why are you out of breath?"

I lied through my teeth. "I was in the bathroom and ran to get the phone when I realized I had a call. I haven't see your text yet."

"Stacey needs to talk to you about a couple of events that Gabelli Funds would like to do this fall. You know how she is – she wants you here right now."

"Okay. Tell her I'll be down in three minutes." I hung up the phone and looked apologetically at Eric. "I need to go."

"I know." He pushed my hair back over my shoulder and kissed my neck. "We should move to a more appropriate venue anyway. How late are you going to be here?" he asked into my ear. "Can you come over?" A shiver ran down my spine.

"Ahhhh." I groaned in frustration. "I want to, but I just can't. I'll probably be here past midnight and things tomorrow start early. I'm sorry." I felt like pouting, and I wanted to throw all responsibility out the window.

"But," I said thinking aloud, "Maybe I could skip out on the event early tomorrow night? I could leave Holly in charge since it's a long time client and…" I stopped when I saw Eric's fist pressed to his brow in frustration.

"What?" I asked, confused by his reaction to my suggestion.

"I had to schedule a last minute trip to Philly tomorrow and won't be back until Wednesday evening."

"God our timing is terrible." I couldn't help but laugh weakly.

"Epically bad," he agreed.

"So, I guess we're still looking at Friday," I said, tracing a finger along his jaw line. It wasn't helping either of us cool down.

"Friday," he agreed, and pulled me in for a soft, deep kiss that pushed the limits of my resolve. My blackberry buzzed again so I pulled away. I knew it was Holly texting me again.

"You need to go," he said as though he was trying to convince himself. "I'll walk out with you."

I gave my hair a couple of quick brushes, applied lip gloss, and smoothed down my dress, being certain to retighten the tie around my waist. Eric watched me with an intent eye.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. I just like watching you." He gave me a tender kiss on the forehead and grabbed my hand to pull me toward the door. As we were about to cross the threshold he kissed the top of my hand, then dropped it before we entered the hallway.

I looked at him confused.

He pointed up and smirked. "Cameras, remember?"

Oh yeah….my stupid rule. I hated the loss of contact, but still thought for now it was best to keep things under wraps.

We didn't speak on the elevator down, just looked at each other from opposite sides of the car. I imagined the things I'd do if the elevator weren't under surveillance. Judging from the look in Eric's eyes, we were of the same mind.

The door dinged open and Eric waited for me to exit first, placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me. My phone buzzed again. Holly's text read, _Please hurry. Stacey is driving me nuts._

_In the Great Hall. Be there in a sec_. I tapped out in response.

I looked up at Eric and smiled. "Well, have a good trip." I took a deep breath, and suddenly feeling bashful mumbled, "I'll miss you."

"I'm counting on it," he said with a crooked grin and gave me a peck on the cheek before heading for the front doors. I watched him walk out the door then sped through the galleries toward Petrie Court to save Holly from Stacey.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. After another hour, the guests left and we just needed to stick around to supervise the load out of the lighting, catering, and décor equipment to make sure they followed the rules and didn't get too close to the art. It wasn't enough to keep me from thinking about Eric. I didn't know that anything could prevent me from thinking about him at this moment.

We were finally able to leave at 12:15. I flagged a southbound taxi on Fifth Avenue, grateful to find one so quickly at that time of night.

"89th between Central Park West and Columbus please," I instructed the driver and slunk back in the seat sighing deeply. Condensation had formed on the interior windows and I mindlessly drew in it with my knuckle. The taxi barreled down the transverse through the park and I realized I'd drawn an 'E' on the window.

"Gah." I erased it with a quick swipe of my palm and leaned my head against the seat closing my eyes. The driver turned onto Central Park West. Just a few blocks to go.

"Sorry," I leaned forward to speak through the little hole in the thick acrylic that separated me from the driver. "Will you drop me at 92nd and the park instead, please?"

"Sure, lady."

We sped past my block and a minute later the taxi jerked to a halt at the curb. I handed the driver my cash and jumped out without waiting for change or the receipt and hurried to the front door. The doorman had apparently already left for the day, so I scanned through the directory of names next to the buzzer until I found _E. Northman #7E._

My finger hovered about the 7E button and I took a quick look down at my watch. 12:30. I hesitated.

"Excuse us," an older gentleman said politely as he and his wife took out keys to unlock the building's front door. He held the door open for his wife and smiled at me, indicating I should enter with a sweep of his hand.

I took a deep breath and smiled. "Thanks."

We boarded the elevator together. "Which floor?" he asked kindly.

"Uh, seven please."

They got off on the fifth floor and wished me a good night. The doors opened onto the seventh floor and I looked both ways to figure out which direction I would find apartment E. Turning right, I walked tentatively down the long hallway until I arrived at the end. I deliberated for nearly two minutes before knocking softly on the door. I waited about half a minute before knocking again a little louder. After another thirty seconds, I blew a long breath through puffed cheeks and turned to leave, but stopped stock still when I heard distant footsteps, a crash, and a string of profanities that made me flinch. This was a bad idea.

As the footsteps got louder, and closer, my stomach erupted in butterflies. The door yanked open angrily. Eric's frame filled the doorway. Clad in drawstring pants and a t-shirt, his hair was mussed from sleep. He squinted from the bright hallway light and I winced, regretful for waking him up.

"I'm so sorry, I….shouldn't have…" my nervous fumble for words was silenced by Eric dragging me into an embrace without hesitation, eliminating any coherent thought from my mind.

The slammed door left us in complete darkness; the metallic tumble of the deadbolt cylinder left the rest of the world behind. With a gentle pull on a fisted tangle of hair, my face was better angled to meet Eric's searching mouth. Unceremoniously dropping my bags to the floor, I stretched to clasp around his neck, pulling him to me. I poured myself into this long-awaited kiss, at last unfettered by time constraints and prying eyes.

Slight stubble scraped my chin in the most satisfying way. I ached to be closer to him and arched the length of my body into his, encouraged by the pressure of the hand spanning my lower back. My desire was building to a fevered pitch when he pulled away from the kiss and took half a step back, putting an unwelcome distance between us. An involuntary whimper crossed my lips. The muffled sound of the traffic below was barely audible over our labored breathing. My eyes had adjusted enough that I could only just make him out in the faint light of the streetlights that reached us through the windows.

Dark eyes bore into mine and he extended his fingers to brush my cheek. I closed my eyes at the return of his tender touch and sunk my full weight against the back of the door. A fingertip trailed down the side of my neck at an excruciatingly slow pace, ran up the ridge of my collarbone until reaching the neckline of my dress. My arms hung limply at my side. I swallowed between uneven breaths and licked my lips, my sightless attention focused on nothing but the progress of the finger that unleashed waves of chills through my body. Slipping just beneath the seam of the fabric, it followed the edge down across my chest plate, through the dip between my breasts, across my abdomen to the sash. With a slight tug at my waist and the soft whisper of fabric on fabric the dress fell open. The cool air on my exposed stomach was soon replaced by the welcome warmth of his hand sliding across my skin until it reached the small of my back, dragging me to him. I relished the heat of his body on my bare skin.

Hot breath on my neck preceded a nibbled trail to the sensitive skin behind my earlobe. A shiver shot down my spine and my head rolled back against the door. His hand pushed the fabric off my shoulder, and in a fluid movement I was standing in nothing but my bra and panties, the dress flung across the room in the direction of a nearby chair. He held my face and gave me a last kiss on the lips, before taking my hand to lead me presumably to the bedroom. I pulled back a bit so he'd wait while I kicked off my heels then padded behind him over the creaky hardwood floors.

His room was even darker than the rest of the apartment; I could only vaguely make out the shape of the bed in the inky obscurity. I pulled the shirt over Eric's head and swallowed hard running my hands over the smooth skin and powerful musculature of his chest. This time I advanced on him and pushed him backwards step by step until he was seated on the bed, then crawled up to straddle his lap.

He spoke for the first time since I arrived. "I'm glad you decided to come over tonight." The words rumbled out in a rough tone.

"Mhhhmm," I uttered in agreement.

I reached back to unhook my bra and let it fall to the floor. He released a held breath, and took my breasts in his hands.

I pushed him back against the mattress playfully and held down his arms at the wrist above his head. I hovered over him, just grazing his chest as I traced a trail up the length of his neck with my tongue.

"I've thought about you in my bed probably more than I should admit." His words, uttered with a gruff edge to them, caused my libido to jump even higher.

I smiled and gently tugged on his earlobe with my teeth. "Well then, I guess that makes two of us," I murmured in his ear.

At that, he effortlessly flipped me on my back and pinned my hands to the bed over my head. I couldn't help but shriek in laughter.

"You little minx," he laughed then caught me in a kiss that silenced us both. Eric's attentions moved beyond my mouth. I should have been bone tired after such a long day, but my body hummed under his deft touch and I craved more.

"We've got to do something about these," he practically growled, and dragged my panties over my hips and down the length of my legs at a tortuously slow pace. He started to crawl back up the bed toward me, but I scrambled to my knees and pulled him to his before me. I tipped my chin up toward his and lightly bit his bottom lip then kissed him.

"Not so fast. You're entirely overdressed for this party," I murmured between kisses, "and I'm a real stickler about dress codes."

"Oh really?" he asked, lips pressed against mine.

"Really," I whispered into his mouth. Without interrupting the series of playful kisses, I reached between us and untied the drawstring of his pants and with both hands pushed them down to his knees. I took him in my hand but faltered when one finger, then another slid into me. He stilled my hand my with his free one, never breaking his building rhythm. A strong arm wrapped around the base of my back to hold me up as I soon lost the ability to remain vertical independently. I gripped his upper arms tightly and stifled a scream into his chest. He held me to him until my breathing returned somewhat to normal then laid me down and kicked his pants the rest of the way off. Eric lay beside me, absentmindedly drawing a pattern on my stomach with his fingertip.

My post-orgasm stupor lifted and I pulled his face toward mine. A gentle kiss deepened and I drew Eric on top of me and reached down to take him in my hand once more. He was teasingly close to my entrance; I shifted my hips, bringing him closer still.

"Are you ready for this?' Eric asked hoarsely.

"Yes," I answered without hesitation.

"We can wait, you know….make it more special."

I placed my hands on either side of his face. "Eric, a lakeside setting or candles or whatever wouldn't make this more special for me. You are what makes this significant, I don't need anything else."

He kissed along my jaw line to my ear.

"I am a little nervous, though," I said in a small voice. He froze at my admission. "Just because it's been so long," I explained quickly. At that he resumed lightly raking my earlobe with his teeth.

"Would I sound like less of a man if I admitted I was a little nervous about this too?" I could hear the hint of a grin on his face.

"Why in the world would you be nervous?" I couldn't help but smile.

He hesitated. "Because it's…you."

My chest tightened and I squeezed my eyes shut tight at his words. He kissed me then leaned away, fumbling with the drawer of his bedside table to extract a condom. I plucked it from his fingers and in short order tore the package open and unrolled it over him. Forehead to forehead, we both seemed to hold our breath until the moment he began to slowly ease into me. A sharp intake of breath on my end was met by a low groan from his.

I gave myself over to the moment, to the sensation of skin on skin. Our rhythm was as first a bit tentative, a little clumsy, but what it lacked in finesse was more than compensated for in genuine emotion. Arms enveloped me and I reveled in him wrapped around me, hovering over me, buried inside me. I tried to forcibly pull him closer to me. Eric gasped and fisted the sheets then collapsed on me clutching my shoulders, his face pressed firmly into the crook of my neck.

I smiled at the ceiling and lightly ran my fingers over the goosebumped flesh of his back and felt his still unsteady breath on my neck. Having recovered a bit he propped himself on an elbow, gently smoothed the hair back from my face and pressed his lips to mine in an achingly tender kiss.

After cleaning up we collapsed back into the cocoon of his bed. I curled against Eric's chest completely exhausted but wholly content and drifted toward unconsciousness.


	20. Chapter 20

_Well, my fair readers, here we are for another chapter. Thank you for reading the story and sticking with it! _  
_I can't tell you how much I appreciate knowing you're reading the story by leaving me comments, favoriting the story or putting it on alert._

_As always, thank you to my pre-reader extraordinaire, **Miss Construed**! _

With great effort I peeled my eyelids open in the weak pre-dawn light, yawned and flexed my muscles. My contact lenses were glued to my eyes leaving my vision clouded. Eric pulled me back against his chest. The rhythmic sound of his deep breathing told me he was still asleep. Glowing green numbers on the bedside clock eventually came into focus; it was nearly 5:30. I needed to get home so I could shower and be in the office by 7:30, but the draw of Eric and his bed was a powerful deterrent. I allowed myself to sink back into Eric's warmth momentarily and my eyes drooped shut. With a start they shot back open. I had to move now or risk oversleeping.

Gingerly lifting Eric's arm I slid out of his grasp, and with great care slipped out of the bed so as not to wake him. Spying my bra, I stooped to snag it in a fluid movement. When a cursory glance didn't yield my undies, I scampered on tiptoe out of the bedroom to find my dress. Once clothed, although still panty-free, I gave the room a visual sweep. It was a classic pre-war apartment with high ceilings, large windows overlooking the park, crown moulding, and hardwood floors covered by a large indigo and burgundy Persian rug. The room was enveloped in the rare city silence that is unique to early morning, broken only by an occasional car passing below and the groaning floorboards beneath my step.

An inviting leather club chair, worn to a comfortable patina from years of use, anchored a corner of the living room. Next to the chair, a small vintage steamer trunk that served as a side table was topped with a haphazard pile of books and a pair of glasses I'd never seen Eric wear. My eye skimmed the eclectic collection of art hung on the creamy white walls. The pieces included some contemporary paintings, figural drawings, some old, large format black and white photographs, and a Hatch Show Print from a 1996 Bruce Springsteen concert. Objects that must have been picked up on travels around the world were stashed throughout the apartment. An acoustic guitar case was propped against the wall under one of the windows; next to it was a basketball.

I was drawn to a wall of bookcases that housed an impressive collection of books both literary and academic, a turntable, and a shelf full of albums. A framed photograph of a young couple in a candid pose on the bookshelf caught my eye and I picked it up to take a closer look. Eric's features and facial expressions looked out from both faces and I knew this must be a decades old photo of his mother and father. My mouth edged up into a slight smile and my mind flitted to a similar photo I had of my parents; it was one of my most prized possessions. I carefully replaced it on the shelf and looked around again. The apartment was a perfect reflection of the man I had come to know, and reminded me how much I had yet to discover.

Glancing down at my watch I remembered the time, pulled my purse from my tumble of possessions at the front door, and sought out the bathroom. Fortunately I always carried a toothbrush with me to freshen up before events. I made a mental note to throw an extra contact case in my purse too. Once I was presentable enough to make my way home, I crept back into Eric's room to hunt for my errant panties. I was perplexed when my secondary search came up empty and was weighing my options when I noticed them dangling from a finger at the end of Eric's outstretched arm.

"Looking for these?" he smirked, still mostly under the covers.

I darted to snatch them back, but Eric was quicker than me and hooked an arm around my waist. A peal of laughter escaped my mouth and I willingly fell back onto the bed alongside him, landing so the tip of my nose was mere inches from his. The depth of his blue gaze made my breath catch in my chest.

"Good morning." His smile was gentle but I detected a slightly smug undertone to his voice that widened my smile.

"Morning." His self-satisfied attitude was echoed in my own voice, and I pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Before I could pull back his fingers laced through my hair and pulled me closer, his tongue lightly ran along my upper lip, then slipped beyond when my lips parted slightly. I gently pushed back, a twinge of anxiety about the time setting in.

"Too bad we can't call in sick today." The implication behind his words raised a flutter in my stomach. That sick day would inevitably entail lots of time in bed, and certainly not a lot of rest.

I groaned at the thought of going into work. "It is a pity," I agreed. Especially when an infinitely more appealing alternative was within reach. "But I was thinking…" I licked my lips and drummed his bare chest lightly with the tips of my fingers before continuing, "if it would work into your schedule, maybe we could take Friday off and head up to the cabin early?"

He lightly fingered a lock of my hair. "Consider my schedule cleared."

"Well, now that was easy," I laughed, then added, "for once."

Eric rolled on top of me, silencing me with his mouth. My body was fighting with my brain over what to do, but my practical need to get to the office won out.

"Eric," I managed to get out between kisses, "I need to go."

He gave a short grunt in protest and continued his attentions.

"Eric," I said a little more sharply, "you're making going home difficult."

He flopped on his back and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before dropping his head to the side to meet my eyes with a mischievous grin. "I don't intend to make leaving bed easy for you."

I felt my cheeks flush at his words and sat up. "Well, mission accomplished," I mumbled.

I scooted to the edge of the bed and at last slid my undies back on, then stood and smoothed down my dress. When I turned back to say goodbye, Eric shook his head before I could speak. "I'll walk you out."

"Okay. I'm going to get my stuff together," I bent to pick up his pants and tossed them back to him as I left the room.

It took some doing to untangle my things and return items that had fallen on the floor to their proper bags, but I had things in order before long. Eric encircled my waist from behind just as I'd just finished arranging the bags more comfortably on my shoulder. I closed my eyes and relaxed into his chest for a moment, then turned to face him. He bent down, brushing his lips to mine. "Thank you for coming over."

I simply smiled in response.

"I doubt I'll see you at the museum before I leave for Philadelphia today."

I nodded. "It's going to be a crazy day for me too. Maybe we can talk sometime tonight?"

"Call me when you have a chance. I have a dinner but it shouldn't run too late."

"Okay."

Eric reached past me and I heard the scrape of the deadbolt unlocking. Our eyes met again and a corner of my mouth tugged up into a slight smile. Things had shifted between us since I had crossed the threshold last night; we were starting to settle into something new. I was reluctant to leave the bubble of his apartment but I had to.

He said goodbye with a light, lingering kiss to my lips, then to my forehead. I squeezed his hand then turned to open the door. When I was nearly to the end of the hallway I threw a glance back over my shoulder and smiled when I saw him leaning casually against the doorframe, watching me walk away. I raised a hand goodbye then rounded the corner for the elevator.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Sookie? Earth to Sookie," Holly's voice finally broke through the haze of my mind and reached my brain.

I smiled weakly and shook my head, wondering how long she'd been standing in the doorway to my office. "I'm sorry I'm so out of it today." I rubbed my hand over my forehead in an attempt to refocus. "Now, what were you asking?'

Holly laughed at my spaciness and repeated herself, "I'm headed down to the cafeteria. Do you want me to pick something up for you?"

"Yes," I enthused gratefully. "I'd love a turkey sandwich and some pita chips." I reached into my purse to pull out a bill and thanked her as she took it from me. Over a wide yawn I added, "And a coke too, please."

With a smile she was out the door and I turned back to the computer screen, attempting to focus. Thoughts of Eric had clouded my sleep-deprived brain, rendering me fairly worthless this morning. I hoped some sustenance and more caffeine would enable me to finish the day off strong.

I managed to fire off some emails about the Young Professionals Benefit in early August. Sophie-Anne had come through for us and secured Dolce & Gabbana as the evening's major sponsor. A younger generation of donors had readily embraced the concept of the benefit. They were coming out in droves to purchase tickets. Catherine couldn't be more pleased, but now the pressure was on me, and the Special Events team, to deliver an event that was worthy of the hype.

The dense clink of a soda can on my desktop announced Holly's return with my lunch. I thanked her and tossed the change in my upper drawer. The sandwich was nearly to my mouth when she popped back in.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Bill told me to tell you hi and to give him a call."

I glanced up from my sandwich.

"I waited in line with Bill and Eric." She shrugged in explanation.

"Oh. Okay, thanks." The smile on my face was partially for her, but mostly a goofy reaction to the mention of Eric. The fact that Eric hadn't told her to say hi wasn't lost on me. Then another thought crossed my mind. "Wait, Holly?" I asked just as she'd left the room. She leaned her head back in.

"Were Bill and Eric eating lunch together?" I instantly wished I had a better filter between my thoughts and my mouth, but I just couldn't help myself. Mentioning Eric was like a compulsion. I needed to get a grip.

She gave a noncommittal shake of the head. "I don't know…I guess so. Why?"

"Oh, no reason. Just curious." My tone was nonchalant, but I thought I caught glimpse of a faint smile on Holly's lips before she turned away. It was too brief to be sure though. I exhaled a stream of air through puffed cheeks and returned to my sandwich and keyboard. So much for keeping things on the down low - I was undermining my own wishes.

Lunch was a turning point in the day for me. I managed to get my head back in the game and plow through the work at hand. Between meetings I stole a few minutes to give Bill a call.

"Sookie Stackhouse," he drawled. "I was beginning to believe I wasn't ever going to talk to you again."

"I'm sorry, Bill. I've been crazy busy since I got back from Greece. We do need to catch up though."

"Yes. I'd say so." I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. He knew. I could hear it in the way he said just those four words; a subtle inflection paired with the sound of a knowing smile.

I paused for a moment before continuing. "How about lunch or coffee tomorrow?"

"Lunch. And let's get out of the museum for a change. Should we say 12:30?"

"Sounds perfect."

"I'll swing by your office to collect you."

He never failed to bring a smile to my face. "Ever the Southern gentleman."

"Would you expect anything less?"

"Of course not," I laughed. "I'll see you then."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Three meetings and a corporate dinner later, I was home at last. I rushed through my nighttime routine and burrowed into the comfort of bed, phone in hand. A teeny jolt of nervousness shot through me when I pressed the send button to make the call to Eric.

After several rings I heard Eric's deep voice. "This is Eric Northman. Leave a message, I'll call you back."

I exhaled disappointment and was about to leave a message when my phone beeped with an incoming call.

"Hello?"

"Sookie." My lips curled into a smile. Even after six months of knowing Eric I still got a thrill hearing him say my name.

"Hey. I thought maybe I'd called too late."

"No, I was just getting out of the shower. I thought you'd be calling later."

"Mercifully the event didn't run too late. I'm exhausted."

"I would say I'm sorry for contributing to your exhaustion, but I'm not."

I laughed a little and was thankful he couldn't see my blush.

"So," I began, "I gather you had lunch with Bill today?" A thread of teasing accusation ran through my words.

"I did, and I told him we're going away together this weekend. He asked me about my weekend plans and I wasn't going to lie to him."

I paused at how absolutely straightforward and unapologetic his response was.

"No, of course not. I'm fine with that…. I would have told him anyway."

"Hmm. Anybody else you plan on telling?" His voice held a sarcastic edge.

I was puzzled by his sarcasm since he was the one who told Bill. "No," I began a bit defensively, 'I was ju-" my words broke off suddenly. "Oh…I forgot to mention that I told Sam Merlotte." I felt sheepish for not having thought to tell Eric earlier.

"I figured as much when I ran into him this morning. The man is not big on subtlety."

"I'm sorry. It completely skipped my mind."

"It doesn't bother me. I'm not the one who's wanting to be secretive."

"Eric," I started a bit frustrated, "it's not that I want to hide our relationship. It's that as a woman it can be difficult to be taken seriously in a professional role. I want people at the Met to think of me as Sookie Stackhouse, Director of Special Events, not Sookie Stackhouse, that chick who's sleeping with the hot Greek and Roman curator."

Laughter rumbled across the phone line. "Fair enough. But I'm fairly certain you've established yourself as a competent professional at the museum. I'll follow your lead on this though."

"Thank you."

"So, you think I'm hot?"

"Oh shush," I laughed, reddening once again. "Of course I do."

"Good to know."

I changed the subject as quickly as I could. "So, how's everything in Philly?"

"It's been really good…interesting."

"Interesting?"

"The Philadelphia Museum of Art is exploring the possibility of establishing a Greek and Roman Art Department."

"Oh, I didn't realize they didn't have one."

"They have some pieces that are folded into other curatorial departments, but they're anticipating a major bequest of an important collection of Greek and Etruscan art. They think they may be able to build a curatorial department around it."

"So, how do you play into this?"

"For now they've asked me to be a consultant – I'll work with researchers to verify the provenance of some of the pieces that may be incoming and make recommendations on additional acquisitions they'd need to make to amass a collection on par with the museum's peer institutions."

"Wow…that's really exciting! But, why wouldn't they put a department chair in place to do that?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Well, for now they want me to be a consultant, but the second half of this is that if they do decide to create a department, I would be a candidate in the running to head it up."

I could force the portion of my brain that was happy at the news to dominate, but I couldn't control my physiological response to his answer. My body went cold as if the all my blood had rushed out, and a pit formed in my stomach. I swallowed and through a tight throat forced out an enthusiastic reply, "Eric, that's really great news. Congratulations!"

"It's too soon for any sort of congratulations, but it is flattering to even be mentioned for the post."

After a bit of silence Eric spoke again. "Sookie," he started then paused. It seemed he was reconsidering his words. "I'll tell you more about it this weekend."

"I hope so. I want to hear all about it." I tried to stifle a yawn, but Eric detected it over the phone.

"I better let you go to sleep."

"Okay." I yawned again. "You're not back until tomorrow evening, right?"

"Yeah. You have another late event?"

"I do."

"Well, give me a call when you have a chance tomorrow."

"I will. Good night."

"Night, Sookie."

After clicking off the light I curled onto my side and contemplated the news from Eric. I tried my best to tamp down my selfish concern about the possible implications. It was an incredible opportunity for him. He was relatively young to be a department chair at a major museum. In any event I shouldn't worry about it at this point. It was hypothetical until the powers that be at the museum decided whether or not to even create the department.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A knock on my door pulled my attention from the computer screen.

"May I come in, Ms. Stackhouse?"

"Bill!" I jumped up from my desk and crossed the room to give him a hug. "What's this?" I asked looking at the stuffed canvas tote bag in his hand.

"Lunch. I took the liberty of packing a picnic."

"You're amazing. Let's go." I threw my phone in my purse and headed out the door arm in arm with Bill.

We found a park bench in a nice sunny patch not too far from the museum, and I marveled mouthwateringly at the spread Bill pulled from his bag; arugula, mozzarella and prosciutto sandwiches on rustic rolls; a grilled corn, tomato and zucchini salad; strawberries with a creamy lemon dip; and brownies.

"I feel like I'm getting the Barefoot Contessa treatment," I giggled a little at the thought. "Chip is a lucky guy."

"I tell him that over and again." Bill smiled.

"He needs convincing?"

"No. I just like to remind him."

I shook my head and laughed. "When is he back in town?"

"Next weekend. He's coming in town to look for an apartment with me."

Confusion furrowed my brow. "Apartment?"

"He's moving to the city." Bill beamed. "He managed to convince his company that he should start up an east coast office for special events and marketing. He'll bounce back and forth between here and LA, but New York will be his home base."

"So he can be here with you." I couldn't help but smile. They were adorable.

Bill just smiled in response. "Would you want to have brunch with us next Saturday?"

"Of course I would." I took a breath and continued, "Um, would it be okay if I brought Eric with me?'

"Now, why would you be bringing Eric with you?" he teased with mocked ignorance.

I shot a look back at him. "Because we're seeing each other. But I think you already knew that."

"Eric mentioned yesterday that you two are going away together this weekend. I think it's great…and long overdue." He took a bite of his sandwich and leaned in a bit closer. "He's a really good guy."

"He is a good guy. A great guy."

Bill winked at me and we spent the rest of lunch chatting about other things. I was drawn to Bill's friendship not only because I enjoyed our conversations, but also because he reminded me of my childhood and my roots like nothing and no one else in New York ever had.

That afternoon brought a couple of interesting calls.

For one, Claudine and I made plans to meet the next day to discuss three upcoming corporate events at the museum that Crane would be managing. I was glad to see that events were starting to trickle in for the firm per her arrangement with Catherine. She'd also be giving me the keys to the cabin and had warned me that she wanted a full explanation of the circumstances under which I'd come to invite a man to go away with me for the weekend. I'd expected that would be the case, but I was looking forward to sharing the developments with her. It had been way too long since we'd seen each other and I missed her horribly.

Secondly, I received a call from the assistant of John McDonough, the president of the New York Foundling, the organization that ran the group home.

"If you have time in your schedule, Mr. McDonough would like to meet you to discuss your involvement in our organization and your interest in the New York City foster care system."

We arranged a lunch meeting for the following week at a midtown restaurant. I was intrigued and puzzled as to why he would want to meet with me. I also felt a twinge of guilt that I'd be skipping out on another volunteer session Friday. The guilt was short lived though, I was pulled into an issue about that evening's event the moment I hung up the phone.

The Special Events Department was practically giddy with relief that we only had two more nights of events before the slower summer schedule kicked in. It had been a long string of busy days and nights, and we were ready for our well-deserved break.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I arrived at my office early Thursday morning, excited that it was the last day of our busy season, and even more excited that tomorrow I would be going out of town for a long weekend with Eric. I'd just sat down at my desk when I noticed a text that had come in earlier that morning from Eric.

_Can I interest you in a latte?_

I was about to respond when he walked through the door, latte in hand.

"Oh, thank you!" I eyed the cup hungrily. "I just saw your text…I didn't have a chance to respond yet."

"I already knew the answer."

"I'm that predictable, huh?"

"I'd hardly call you predictable. " He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into a kiss. "I know some things you like." His voice dropped and he spoke into my ear, "I want to learn everything you like." He nipped at my earlobe and I worked hard to keep my breathing under control.

He took a step back, smiling at the effect he had on me.

I licked my lips and smoothed down my skirt in an attempt to collect myself. "I think you're well on your way."

"I wanted to come by early. My day is loaded with meetings…I doubt I'll have another chance to see you before tomorrow."

We worked out a plan for our departure the next morning, and with another kiss that left me wanting more, he was gone. It was a tease to know he would be somewhere within the building for the next several hours and yet I'd be unable to see him.

I popped the lid off the cup of steaming liquid, took a long sip and smiled. I may not know where he was now, but I'd know exactly where he was for the next four days.

Tomorrow morning couldn't come soon enough.


	21. Chapter 21

**_a/n Dear readers...have I mentioned lately how much I appreciate every single one of you? Because I truly do. Thanks for reading! _**

**_You've asked for a certain alternate P.O.V. since the earliest of chapters - I'll bet you were starting to think you'd never actually see it though, huh?  
Well...here it is - I hope you enjoy!_**

**_xo, Pfloogs_**

**_

* * *

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I paced the oil stained concrete floor of the dank parking garage with an impatient step and glanced down at my watch again. This weekend together was long overdue and I was anxious to get on the road. At last I heard the heavy mechanical clang of the large elevator doors open and recognized the familiar hum of my engine. Joe, the parking attendant, jumped out of my car and handed me a ticket.

"My apologies for the delay, Mr. Northman."

I palmed him a tip in return.

"No worries, Joe. Have a good one. I'll bring it back late afternoon or early evening on Monday."

I threw my duffel in the backseat and slid behind the wheel, then eased my Jeep Wrangler onto the street. At the stoplight I texted Sookie that I'd be at her place within a couple of minutes.

Sookie was waiting outside on the front stoop of her brownstone, scrutinizing the driver of each passing vehicle. I couldn't help but feel smug satisfaction at the expression that crossed her face when she recognized me. I threw the car in park, but she had the back door open, said good morning, and began loading her bags before I even had the chance to jump out. Whether or not she realized it, she took every opportunity, both small and large, to prove her independence to herself and others. I understood where her need for self-sufficiency came from; it was a quality I admired, but I suspected it would frustrate me to no end at times too.

Rounding the front of the car, I opened the front passenger door before she could beat me to it and dipped to kiss her. A hint of mint lingered on her lips. I wanted more but pulled away. Sookie's sapphire eyes were bright with excitement; underneath I detected the faint circles from a long week of work. She pushed herself so hard for her job. We all did, but the recent demand on her time was extreme, even by New York City standards.

"What's this?" I'd just noticed the paper bag in her clutches.

"Coffee and bagels for the road." She slid into the passenger seat, carefully balancing the paper bag on her kneecaps while stowing her purse on the floor.

"You'd have made a good scout. Always prepared."

"No." A weary laugh accompanied the shake of her head. "I'm just always desperate for caffeine." Once she was settled in the seat I closed the door behind her and crossed back around the car to the driver's side.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

My hand was poised to throw the car in drive, but I hesitated thinking of the all too brief kiss on the street. My need to revisit the lingering sweetness on her lips took priority over leaving. I leaned over the armrest to catch her mouth once more. A light touch on my cheek was timid, but it drew me to her like a homing device. Her distinct scent, concentrated in the confines of the car, filled my nose, and provoked an urge that I couldn't possibly sate at the moment.

It was madness to get worked up before a five-hour drive, but neither one of us came up for air until a horn blast cut our teenage make out session short. The impatient taxi driver squeezed by, flipping me the bird as he passed. Anger licked at my brain, but instantly turned to something quite different when a throaty giggle erupted from the passenger seat. She cooled me down-she heated me up; I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and haul her back to her apartment, but this was not the time. I drew a controlled breath and refocused my mind.

"Ready to go?" A smirk graced her lips as she threw my earlier question back at me.

I chuckled and shook my head. What a smart ass.

"How was the event last night?" I asked once we were headed North on Central Park West.

"Exhausting. There were a _thousand_ people throughout the museum. We spent all night shooing guests away from the edge of the Nile….chasing down people smoking in the galleries. It was a nightmare." She gave a weary laugh and stifled a yawn. "I didn't get home until a little after one."

I reached out to her thigh. "You should sleep on the way up."

She covered my hand with her much smaller one. "No way. You need a navigator. I'm not going to have you drive by yourself."

I didn't argue. My car was equipped with a GPS navigation system, but she'd pulled a map out of her bag and was studying it intently. If she wanted to navigate, I'd let her navigate. Hell, if she said she wanted to go to Disneyworld I'd make a U-turn and start driving south straightaway.

We'd been on the highway less than five minutes when I turned to ask Sookie a question. I stopped before the question left my mouth; she'd fallen asleep with map and coffee cup in hand. At the next scenic overlook I edged the car over and carefully extracted both from her slackened grip, then eased her seat back to a more comfortable position. Before pulling back on the road, I took a moment to study the serene look on her face. She was unlike any other woman I'd been involved with. There was a freshness and authenticity to Sookie that made her shine to those who were either smart or lucky enough to recognize it. I now considered myself one of the luckiest bastards around.

My Jeep rejoined the stream of highway traffic and I allowed my mind to wander. I'd noticed Sookie long before she'd ever noticed me at Muddy's. We'd lived in the same neighborhood for years. I would see her from time to time at the market, or running around the reservoir; I'd pass her on the sidewalk to the cleaners. I'd made a habit over the years of ignoring the whispers and stares of women; the fact that she seemingly didn't notice me is what caught my attention.

I didn't think anything of her. I'd simply noticed her.

After a particularly disastrous relationship flamed out a couple of years ago, Thalia sat me down at Muddy's for a come to Jesus talk like only a close friend can - she chewed me out. She read me the riot act. She threatened to stop hanging out with me if I couldn't get my shit together in the relationship department.

"What the hell am I supposed to do differently, Thalia?" I was as exasperated with her as she was with me, and I was tired of being on her firing line.

"Try _thinking_ before you get involved with somebody. What do you want in a relationship? No…scratch that. What kind of person do you want to spend your time with? What is your ideal?" After saying her peace, Thalia left me in Muddy's to stew. I wasn't actively looking to get involved with somebody; it just kept happening.

The mention of the word "ideal" was the one thing she said that seeped into my brain. I spent much of my academic and museum career considering the Greek ideal of beauty as it pertained to art. I should certainly be able to apply the concept to what I'd want in a girlfriend.

An ideal, of course, is an abstract; it's absolute perfection that exists only in one's mind. I contemplated the qualities that constituted my ideal and found that formulating it wasn't a challenge at all. The challenge would be to keep it in mind, to use it as a standard moving forward.

At that moment, the blonde I'd seen around the neighborhood pushed through the door into Muddy's. She wasn't as stunning as some of the women I'd been with; she was attractive in a more down to earth kind of way. I wanted to keep my ideal an abstract in my mind, yet I couldn't help but project the qualities onto her; she was an empty vessel that I knew nothing about. I harbored no illusions that she was anything close to my abstract ideal. For all I knew she was a stark raving lunatic, the owner of twenty-seven cats - maybe even a phone sex operator. It didn't matter because she was no more than a placeholder for me; something to remind me of the qualities I was seeking.

Over the next few months I kept falling into bed with the wrong women. I would bide my time with whichever woman it was, but invariably, over coffee at Muddy's, I'd see the blonde that I'd designated to embody my ideal, and realize how far off track I was. Muddy's became the ultimate dumping ground for me, the place where relationships went to die.

I gleaned little information beyond how she liked her coffee from my casual Saturday morning observations. That all changed when our department met with the new Director of Special Events; the universe certainly had an amusing sense of humor. The moment I recognized the woman we were meeting, I knew I'd have to find another blank canvas for my ideal. She was going to pass from an abstract idea to a real person, a real person whom, undoubtedly, bore little resemblance to my ideal.

As the weeks progressed though, I was surprised to discover how many characteristics of my ideal Sookie possessed. She was certainly the closest that any woman I'd met had ever come. Sookie challenged some of the qualities I'd thought were important too. I had believed that I wanted somebody who didn't need me, having done time with some clingy women. As it turns out, nothing could have been further than the truth. She wasn't needy in the least bit, and I knew her world wouldn't come to a grinding halt without me in it, but she needed me all the same.

A heavy waking sigh and groan from the passenger seat pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Where are we?" Sookie croaked, propping herself up on an elbow to look out the window. "Have I been asleep for long?"

"A couple of hours. We're not too far from Albany."

She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "Sorry I faded on you."

I ventured a quick glance at her. "You needed to sleep. We've got to make sure you're rested up for later." I didn't need to look at her face to know my words flushed her cheeks. I couldn't keep the smirk off my face.

We had another few hours on the road before we reached the cabin. There are a scant few people among my friends and family that I would willingly ride in a car with for five hours; it's the ultimate test of compatibility. I was relieved but not surprised that Sookie and I had no problem filling the time with easy conversation. That didn't stop me from speeding to get us to the cabin faster – I was looking forward to some quality time with Sookie that didn't necessarily involve talking.

Sookie had surprised the hell out of me when she showed up at my door Monday night. I suspected she had surprised herself too. This thing with Sookie felt like unchartered territory. I had been doing things I'd never before imagined: patiently waiting for my opening; chasing her across the globe; fumbling in the bedroom. Christ, I was so in my head these days I barely recognized myself at times; I was used to acting on instinct in these matters. Eventually I'd regain my footing - hopefully even this weekend.

"It's here," Sookie pointed to the right. The easily missed turnoff was marked by a small, carved wooden sign evocative of another era, and bore the name "Sweet Solitude". The long gravel drive tunneled through an acre thick with trees until the trunks thinned rather abruptly, opening onto a clearing. The cabin, on the far edge of the clearing, was surrounded by a handful of impressive white pine trees standing sentry. They looked as though they had been planted long before the cabin was constructed.

"Well, here we are, Sweet Solitude," Sookie said making air quotes, then extracted an iron barrel key that must have been original to the cabin from her purse. In a couple of quick trips we'd hauled everything in, including the provisions we'd picked up in the closest town.

"So, do I get the grand tour now?" I asked once the last of the food had been unloaded into the refrigerator.

The cabin matched the mental picture that Sookie had painted for me on the drive up. The comfortable and tastefully rustic furnishings were reminiscent of a fly fishing lodge I frequented with my father in Vermont. Sookie fidgeted with the shoulder strap of her bag a bit nervously while climbing the stairs to the second floor bedrooms.

She pushed the door to the first room open, revealing what was obviously the master bedroom. An enormous picture window offered a postcard worthy view of the lake, and a massive four-poster bed dominated the room. Sookie took just a couple of steps through the door.

"Nice room," I glanced around, but stayed planted next to Sookie.

"We can stay in here if you want." Despite her words, she didn't seem thrilled about the idea. I reached out for her hand and pulled her to me.

"Hey, I'm fine with any room," I brushed my lips against her temple then added with a smirk, "as long as you're in it." She laughed at me dismissively and shook her head. It was good to see her becoming more comfortable with me, but I was a little disappointed that I didn't make her blush.

"Why don't we stay in my usual room - it's smaller than the others, but I love it."

I released her from my grip and slid the largest bag off her shoulder. She looked as though she was going to protest, but stopped herself and took a deep breath.

"You know I can get that myself," she said with a wry smile on her face, "but thanks."

"I know you can get it by yourself, but you're welcome. Now show me the room, woman."

Her mouth edged into a real grin and she led the way to the end of the hall.

Upon entering the room I could see why Sookie loved it; it was cozy, homey and suited her to a T. While it wasn't as expansive as the master, it was still generously sized, and the sloped wood paneled ceilings and irregular footprint manifested in inviting nooks. A bed, artisan-crafted of hickory branches, was nestled in the largest of the recesses. Late afternoon light streamed through the simple stained glass window above the headboard, casting sun streaks of amber, crimson, blue and white across the cream quilted bedspread.

"Is this okay?"

"It's perfect." I set the bags on the floor at the foot of the bed and crossed the room to the larger window. From this vantage point I could see a tidy shingled structure that was presumably the boathouse perched on the lip of the lake. A snaking path connected the boathouse to a garden-bound stone patio below.

I could sense Sookie approach, but kept my eyes trained on the lake. Her two hands gently clasped around my hand nearest her, and she leaned into my side, casting a glance out to the water. I relaxed into the sensation of her body pressed to mine.

"There are a couple of small islands we can easily paddle to from here," Sookie began. Her face tipped up to mine, meeting my eyes. Whatever she had planned to say next seemingly drifted away with the response I'd had on the tip of my tongue.

I searched her face, taking in every detail: the slight crease on her cheek where her dimple would appear; the dip between her nose and her upper lip; the exact color of blue that her eyes approximated in the afternoon light. It was a quiet moment that we hadn't been afforded for many months –- oddly enough, not since the photo shoot. She looked different to me now. I had thought she was beautiful the day of the shoot. Today I couldn't think of a single woman whom I found more beautiful than Sookie.

Her facial muscles rearranged ever so slightly into the hint of a smile; faint creases appeared at the corners of her eyes. My face responded to the look on hers, a smile lifting a corner of my mouth. I pushed a stray strand of hair back from her forehead, ran my fingertips along the curve of her face to her chin, traced the tender plumpness of her bottom lip with my thumb. Her mouth cracked into a smile and she caught my finger between her teeth playfully.

"Come here." Sookie's eyes sparked with amusement at her whispered command. She stretched to reach her arms around my neck and pulled me into a kiss that was soft, searching. My body was raring to go, but my mind wanted to follow Sookie's lead - to allow her to call the shots today.

Somehow I managed to suppress a groan and keep a somewhat neutral expression on my face when she pulled away and suggested we have dinner. I searched for the manual override button on my brain, took a few deep, controlled breaths, and followed her back downstairs.

We opted for an easy dinner of prepared foods we'd picked up at the store: a grilled pesto shrimp pasta, roasted asparagus and sliced peaches. Sookie set the table on the back porch so we could watch the sunset. The air still bore the cool hint of spring that had long ago left us in the city.

"Well, here's to a weekend out of the city," she raised her beer clinking the glass neck to mine.

"A weekend _together_ out of the city," I clarified, thinking of the many recent weekends we'd both spent out of the city.

"True," she laughed. "Together," she echoed a little softer.

I expected that we would have been talked out after the car ride, but dinner conversation was leisurely and wide-ranging. It never reached the topic that I probably most needed to broach with Sookie. I wasn't quite sure what to say about the job potential in Philadelphia though. Our relationship was so new. It felt too new to be discussing the implications of a move that may not even happen.

After dinner, Sookie cleared the plates and returned with two more bottles of beer. The sounds of birds faded with the daylight, steadily replaced by a building chorus of frogs and crickets. Lightning bugs flashed high against the rich blue color of the sky that still retained a glow from the remains of the day. The air almost instantly chilled when the sun dipped below the horizon. Sookie made a move to draw her legs to her chest for warmth, but I leaned forward, took her hand and pulled her into my lap.

Without resisting, she curled into me. The light breath on my neck and roaming hand on my chest were the only invitation I needed. I found her warm mouth eager for mine, and soon she was clambering for a better position. I helped her shift into a straddle, grasping her hips, and then gently tugged her shirt free of the waistband of her jeans. Her abdomen tensed initially at the sensation of my cool fingers skimming her skin, but then she pressed toward me, wordlessly begging for more contact; I willingly obliged.

My lips, tongue and teeth worked slowly, softly dragging across the sensitive skin of her neck, to the spot just behind her ear that I knew would unleash chills through her body.

"What do you want, Sookie?" I breathed into her ear.

She gasped and hesitated for a moment before whispering unevenly, "I want you to take me upstairs."

In a fluid movement I gathered her to me and made my way inside. Our frantic need for each other impeded my progress, but at last I was through the door to our room and deposited her on the bed. The unchecked desire in Sookie's eyes further stoked my own. I began to peel the jeans off her, but was stopped by her hand on my arm.

"Will you turn out the light?"

I wanted to see her, all of her, but followed her wishes. Obscured by darkness, we shed every last bit of clothing and tumbled across the bed. At last I allowed myself to follow my instincts, and hungrily explored the smooth skin of her willing body. Sookie's gasps and cries evidenced my return to form. Soon she had me calling her name and forgetting my own

We fell in a tangled, damp sprawl on the bed, fatigued from exertion. Sookie's breathing slowed then deepened, and finally she drifted off, her naked form still entwined in mine. I pulled her tighter to me and focused on the rise and fall of her chest and the steady rhythm of her pulse. My chest tightened, affected by these essential, involuntary actions of her body. Eventually they lulled me to sleep.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I was in a deep restful sleep, aided by the cool air on my back and the warm body in my arms until Sookie's movements roused me.

"Good morning," she grinned when I opened my eyes. The stained glass window above our heads sent pale colored light throughout the room.

I groggily got out a "Good morning", took Sookie's hand in mine, and threw a lazy leg over hers to prevent her from leaving me unaware if I fell back asleep. Usually I was an up with the sun kind of guy, but I wanted nothing more than to spend the day in bed, naked with Sookie. As usual, she had ideas that ran contrary to mine. Wriggling from underneath the dead weight of my leg, Sookie struggled to pull the sheet out from under the edge of the mattress, and then gathered it to her before stepping to the floor.

"I'm going to get dressed and make some breakfast for us." She carefully wrapped the sheet around herself and made her way toward her still unpacked bag.

"Sookie, come back." My words came out huskier than I'd intended. I softened my voice and continued, "Come back. Let me see you."

"I…" she trailed off and glanced down at the sheet firmly gripped around her body. Her eyes worked back up to mine, the internal struggle visible on her face.

"Let me see you," I said again in a voice softer still, pleading with my eyes.

The expression on her face relaxed; I could see the trust in her eyes. I edged off the bed and moved to her, cupping her face in my hands and brushing my lips to hers. After a moment the sheet slid between us into a crumpled heap at our feet. My hands glided over her bare skin with the lightest of touches, raising goosebumps across her body. Gently, she took my two hands in hers, and with me in tow, walked backwards to the bed, never breaking eye contact. I kissed the small smile on her lips, and then watched her crawl onto the bed. She was soft curves and smooth planes, a study in creamy white and blonde. I ached at the sight of her.

Sookie reached her hand back for me to join her. I climbed up the bed and fell in a heap on top of her, eliciting a peal of laughter. My eyes locked with hers and her smile faded a bit.

"You're so beautiful." I hoped the sincerity of my delivery would make up for the unoriginality of my words.

A different smile crossed her face and her eyes flicked away briefly, then returned back to me. She pulled my mouth to hers; I sank into her embrace. Within minutes we were revisiting territory we'd covered last night. In the light of day it was an entirely new experience.

I watched, enthralled, as Sookie slipped away, gradually unraveling bit by bit until she abandoned herself completely. The gates of control that she usually held tightly closed were thrown open, and a look I'd never seen crossed her face. Watching her pushed me over the edge and I collapsed on top of her. Christ, she took my breath away; I wanted to unlock her like this over and again.

We lay in each other's arms recuperating, exactly as I'd hoped we would spend the day. Sookie ran her fingers through my hair and let out a dramatic sigh that commanded my attention.

"What?"

"It's nothing really," she smiled.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's just….I never got to run my fingers through your hair when it was long."

I let out a hiss of laughter. "We've already been though this. It'll grow back."

"Right...but it's going to take a while." She tugged gently at my hair.

I raised an eyebrow. "You plan on going somewhere?"

I regretted my words as soon as I said them; regretted them as soon as I saw the look that momentarily flashed across Sookie's face.

Her smile tightened just a bit. "No." Her voice sounded smaller. "I don't plan on going anywhere." I could see that she didn't know if the same could be said about me. To be honest_, I_ didn't know if the same could be said about me.

It was just too soon to know.


	22. Chapter 22

"I'll have a glass of the Sauvignon Blanc." Claudine flashed the waiter her patented smile and handed the narrow leather folio back to him.

"Very well. And what can I get you?"

I took a last glance over the list of wines by the glass then snapped the wine menu closed. "A Bombay Sapphire and tonic, please."

A perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in suspicion at me across the table. "Uh oh. Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise."

"Now, why would you say that?"

"Sookie, how long have I known you?" she asked rhetorically. "Ordering a gin and tonic is your tell."

I scraped together my most sarcastic, questioning tone. "Oh, really?"

She smiled and shook her head of glossy chestnut hair. "Yes, really. You tend to order them when you're stressed or agitated about something." A laugh escaped her bow of a mouth. "How do you not know this about yourself?"

I cocked my head and thought about the last few times I'd had a gin and tonic. Damn it. She might be on to something.

"Well, how was the weekend at the cabin with lover boy?"

"Ugh. Claudine, don't embarrass me."

"I'm sorry…sorry." She threw her hands up in surrender. "So really, how was it?"

"It was…" I searched for a word to adequately sum up the four days that still had me floating, but came up short. I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, "It was really...fantastic."

A look of pleasant surprise crossed Claudine's face. Our waiter returned with our drinks

As we clinked glasses, Claudine asked. "So, if it was fantastic, what's with the gin and tonic?"

I sighed and rubbed fingertips over my forehead in an attempt to forcibly relax my muscles. "I know it's premature and even presumptuous for me to worry about this, but a position at the Philadelphia Museum of Art may be created that Eric would be in the running for it if it's established."

Claudine narrowed her eyes, held up her two index fingers and looked at me as though I had eight heads. "Let me get this straight. You're worried that Eric would leave the _Metropolitan Museum of Art_ to take an offer that he may not even get for a position that as of now is non-existent? In _Philadelphia_?"

Claudine was a New York City snob to the core. She laughed dismissively and took a sip of her wine. I could almost relax when she put it that way.

I joined her with a half-hearted laugh and took a gulp of my cocktail.

"I can see you're unconvinced." She eyed me closely.

I shrugged and watched the bubbles from the tonic travel up the tall column of glass in my hand.

"What has Eric said about it?"

"Not much. He first mentioned it last week. We kind of talked around it a bit this weekend, but I don't think either one of us really knew _how_ to talk about it. It brings up stuff that I certainly don't want to talk about this soon - I'm sure he feels the same."

Claudine pensively swirled the wine in her glass, catching the light from the votive candle on our table.

"You know I'm all for open communication, but a wise person knows when to talk and when to keep it zipped. Too much talk too soon can be a relationship killer."

I nodded and bit my lip. "That's my feeling too."

We sat in contemplative silence for a few moments.

"So you really like him." She cast me a hopeful glance.

I answered her with a look. She broke out into a huge grin and squeezed my hand.

"I'm sure not everybody would tell you the same, but just let things steep. Don't worry about what _might_ happen, enjoy what's going on with the two of you right now."

I squeezed her hand back.

"Just remember, Sook, even if this Philadelphia thing wasn't on the radar, there are never any guarantees."

I knew all too well that in life there were no guarantees.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Halleigh and I spent the better part of Thursday morning preparing for a lunch meeting with Courtney Lewin and Olivia Perry from the Egyptian Art Department to discuss our plans for the Young Friends Benefit. The Special Events team had a solid plan in place, but needed to get the department's blessing to proceed on a few details since the event would be held in the Temple of Dendur.

In the interest of time we were meeting in the staff cafeteria. Courtney and Olivia had already staked out a table when Halleigh and I arrived. We chatted amiably over lunch before moving on to the business of the benefit. I was nearly finished explaining our proposed format and setups when my blackberry buzzed with an incoming text. I glanced down to quickly read the message in case it was an event emergency.

_I can't keep my eyes off you._

My heart rate accelerated, but I managed to control my facial expressions, if not the color of my cheeks, and turned back to Courtney, answering her question about how we would propose controlling traffic around the art without missing a beat. When Halleigh jumped in to explain in further detail, I nonchalantly glanced across the room to my right, but didn't see Eric.

I waited for another opportunity to discreetly look to my left. When I had my opening, I found Eric a few tables from mine, engrossed in conversation with his colleagues. After a couple of seconds his eyes flicked up to meet mine and held my gaze for a long moment before turning back to his colleagues. The expression on his face never changed, but the heat behind his look unleashed a wave of chills across the back of my neck and down my spine. My mind flashed back to the cabin – to that same look in his eyes and a much more intimate situation. I took a breath and looked back to my tablemates and reentered the discussion of next steps for the party.

Another text came in as I was shuffling my papers back into my event folder.

_Do you have plans tonight?_

I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from smiling and replied.

_Not yet…_

I turned my head ever so slightly to see the smile cross his face when he received my text. The four of us pushed back our chairs, said our goodbyes, and left in opposite directions. My blackberry buzzed in my hand again.

_Consider yourself booked. _

"Why so smiley?" Halleigh asked.

I shook my head and laughed dismissively, "Just a funny text."

My eyes flicked to Eric once more as I passed him with a smile that was more than a smile, and Halleigh and I returned the friendly waves of Gary and the others at the table.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the dimly lit restaurant. I quickly picked out Eric's tall frame casually leaning against the polished white marble bar, talking to the bartender I'd seen here several times before. The restaurant and wine bar was one of my favorite neighborhood spots.

The bartender noticed my approach and tipped his chin in my direction. A nervous knot of excitement tightened in my stomach at the crooked smile that followed from Eric.

His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me to his side with a quick kiss in greeting.

"Hey."

"Hi." I felt ridiculously shy considering I'd just spent several days mostly naked with the guy.

At the sound of a throat clearing behind the bar, Eric straightened up.

"Sookie, this is Tray Dawson."

I smiled into the roughly handsome face across the bar and stretched to shake his meaty paw of a hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sookie. I've seen you here before with your friend, right?" He circled his head with a hand, presumably indicating Amelia's short coif.

I softly chuckled before answering. "Yes. I've been in a few times with my friend, Amelia. It's nice to meet you too." Aside from the great menu and atmosphere, Amelia had dragged me here on several occasions to ogle, in her words, the "mountain of muscle behind the bar".

"So, I take it you're a regular here too if you know Tray?" I asked as we settled into stools at one of the high tables against the wall.

"I come here a fair amount. Tray plays basketball with us sometimes too." It was a big city, but a small world. It seemed like Tray and Amelia were bound to cross paths one way or another. I would see what I could do to facilitate that. The thought made me smile.

"Why are you smiling?"

I shook my head at Eric's question. I would rather be subtle in my machinations. Plus, I didn't really want to talk about Amelia and Tray right now.

Eric and I hadn't spent time together since he'd dropped me off Monday evening. We'd seen each other in our usual day-to-day routines at the museum, of course. The cumulative effects of a few days of suggestive emails and furtive glances had me wound tighter than a spring. Our original plan had been to wait to get together until Friday with Thalia and Jess, but I suppose our collective restraint had its limits.

Over the last couple of days I'd poured over Claudine's advice. My instinct was to hold back and limit my exposure to heartache in the event he should leave for Philadelphia. But I realized if I really wanted to protect myself I would need to close myself off, not just from Eric, but from any guy that came along. I had no interest in living a cloistered existence. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

We hunched over the table, eating our dinner and talking about the past few days. The votive candle between us uplit his features with a flickering glow that made his eyes look a shade paler than usual.

"You're meeting with that guy for lunch tomorrow, right?" he asked.

"I am. I still don't know the purpose of the meeting though. It's probably something to do with the Times article. We'll see."

We both made a move for credit cards when the waiter dropped off the bill. A warning glance from Eric told me this was a battle I wouldn't be winning. I dropped my purse in my lap in resignation.

"Next time," I said, and then reached out for the driver's license peeking out of his billfold. "May I?"

Eric laughed and pushed it toward me. "Be my guest."

"Oh, yes. There's that hair." I could see his eye roll in my peripheral vision, but ignored it and squinted to read the tiny type on the card and then looked at him with wide eyes.

"Your birthday is next week?"

He shrugged.

"Well, I'm most definitely taking you out for dinner." My voice was laced with feigned indignance.

"Where are we going?"

"I can't tell you that, but it _will_ be fantastic."

He smiled. "I have no doubt."

Eric took my hand in his across the table and watched his thumb run over the fine bones and delicate veined skin of my inner wrist. The simple touch made my heart speed up. His eyes trailed up my arm, to the crook of my elbow. The brush of fingertips across the sensitive crease of skin and back down my arm made my stomach tighten.

"Eric," I barely got out his name. He met my eyes and one corner of his lip curled into a grin.

"Are you ready to go?"

I nodded.

Over the heads of other restaurant patrons we waved goodbye to Tray and slipped onto the sidewalk heavy with the usual Upper West Side foot traffic and diners taking advantage of any opportunity to eat al fresco. Eric slung an arm around my shoulder and we fell into the stream of people walking uptown.

When we reached the broad stoop of my building, I began to lead the way up the steps. Halfway up, Eric tugged on my hand, impeding my progress. I turned and for once, aided by the extra height of a couple stairs, looked him eye-to-eye. My arms slid over his shoulders and I leaned forward the few inches between us to kiss him. At some point I realized, much to my dismay, that he was kissing me goodnight.

I pulled back. "You need to go?"

"I do. I'm meeting with a research team early in the morning."

I didn't pout, but I could feel myself making involuntary puppy dog eyes. His hands cradled my head and he looked me in the eye and grinned.

"If I stay here with you, my chances of making the meeting are severely limited."

I cocked an eyebrow. "I have an alarm clock, you know."

"It's not an alarm clock I'm worried about, it's my willpower."

I smiled in defeat and looked down. Hot breath stirred the wisps of hair behind my ear.

"I'll see what I can do to make it up to you tomorrow night." His low voice in my ear made my shiver.

"I _will_ hold you to that." I leaned back to look him in the eyes again. "Thank you again for dinner."

He walked me up the rest of the way to the building door and pressed soft lips to mine.

"Good night, Sookie."

I waved good night with a smile and sighed heavily once the doors had closed behind me.

_**A/N Oh, so that was a shorty of a chapter. Thanks, as always, to the incomparable Miss Construed for prereading my chapters. She has a new Surfer Eric fic that's posted - Can't Stop the Waves. Get in on the beginning because you know it will be great!**_

_**Thanks so much for reading, alerting, favoriting and letting me know what you're thinking in a review. They are very much appreciated!**_

_**xo, Pfloogs**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N Two chapters in one week? I know...crazy cakes.  
A little weekend send-off for you. Enjoy! xo, Pfloogs**_

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* * *

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"Table for one?" the woman behind the hostess desk asked without a hint of judgment or condescension.

"I'm meeting somebody here. John McDonough?"

"Oh yes, he's already arrived. Let me show you to the table."

At our approach, the well-dressed silver haired man in his sixties rose and extended his hand.

"Sookie, John McDonough. It's a pleasure to meet you. Please, sit." He gestured to the empty chair while politely hovering over his own until I was seated.

It didn't make sense for me to feel nervous since I hadn't asked for this meeting, didn't know what it was about, and as far as I knew didn't have anything on the line, but my palms were sweating all the same.

"I understand you've been volunteering with us at one our group homes for five years."

"Yes, I have. It's been a wonderful experience."

We ordered and small talked about one of the Met's current exhibitions.

"How did you become interested in our mission if you don't mind me asking?" He asked once lunch had been served.

I found myself, much to my surprise, telling him the story of losing my parents at a young age and being raised by my Gran. There was something compassionate about him that instantly set me at ease and made me willing to share my personal experience.

He smiled and nodded his head. "I suppose it's not so surprising that individuals who have experienced the loss of their parents as a child are drawn to our mission, but I am always humbled by the number of people who reach out to children in need of a loving home."

Sensing that John had a story, I asked him how he came to be involved. "I too was orphaned as a child, but I didn't have any grandparents or extended family who were able to care for me, so I lived in an orphanage until I was adopted," he offered.

He didn't need to explain any further. I was so fortunate to have been raised by in a home full of love by my Gran, but John and I were members of an exclusive club that we wouldn't wish on anyone else.

"Sookie, I've asked you to lunch to explore your interest in joining the Board of Directors of the home's parent organization, the New York Foundling."

I was stunned by his words and in retrospect hoped my mouth wasn't hanging open. I worked with boards all the time in a professional capacity, but I was awfully young and un-Social with a capital 'S' to be on a board in New York City.

"Really?" I asked disbelieving.

"You get what we do – who could speak better about our mission than somebody who has personally been touched such as yourself? You've been able to garner invaluable media opportunities to put Hope House in the spotlight, you know the players in New York City and you have event experience too which is central to our fundraising efforts."

"Is there a financial commitment?" In truth, I was making more money than I ever had before, and my accountant had recommended that I step up my charitable giving to offset my tax liability.

"In general we ask that board members pledge $5,000 a year, but I am not asking you to do that. You have other talents that would make you a very valuable member of the board."

"John, I would be interested in joining the Board on one condition."

His eyebrows rose with his question. "What's that?"

"Please don't treat me any differently than the other board members just because I'm younger, even when it comes to financial expectations."

A look of surprise flashed across his face then turned into a pleased smile and he dipped his head in acknowledgment of my request. "As you wish," he said.

"In that case, I would be delighted to join the board."

"Welcome aboard," he smiled warmly and shook my hand.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A thick line of concertgoers wrapped around the corner in the warm summer night.

"IDs please." The massive, shapeless bouncer repeated those two words in parrot-like fashion.

I'd fished mine out of my back pocket and waited with the others in the crowded entry for the requisite wristband. Eric's hand on the small of my back incrementally moved me forward with the crowd.

Jess and I were talking about other concerts we'd seen recently, but I overheard Thalia's question to Eric. "You're going to Philadelphia again? What's up in Philly?"

I glimpsed the stony mask her face settled into as Eric recounted the consulting work he was doing and the possible Chair position.

I did my best to focus my attention elsewhere during their exchange. It wasn't too difficult in the shadowy din of the crowd. Instead I concentrated on the royal blue band the bouncer was affixing around my arm. It was the tyvek kind; it would be impossible to remove without the aid of scissors.

I reached back for Eric's hand in the jostling mass of people and the four of us found a relatively uncrowded spot to regroup. Thalia, unsurprisingly, took the reins.

"Jess, you and Sookie go scout out a spot. Eric and I will get drinks."

I got the distinct impression that Eric would also be getting a third degree questioning. His less than thrilled look indicated he knew what was coming too.

Irving Plaza was an old theater that had been converted into a concert space. It reeked of stale beer and sweaty bodies like any good concert venue worth its salt should. The open general admission floor was perfect for watching live music; it allowed for a large enough crowd to have good energy, but was still small enough to retain the intimacy that made you feel like you'd experienced something special.

Steve Earle was headlining and Ingrid Michaelson was opening for him. It wasn't lost on me that both musicians were on our exchanged playlists. I wondered if Eric had chosen this concert for that reason, or if it was just a happy accident.

"Poor Eric," laughed Jess.

I gave him a quizzical look.

"I know that look on Thalia's face all too well. Guaranteed, he's catching a ration of shit right now."

I laughed a little uncomfortably and changed the subject. Before long I could see Eric and Thalia maneuvering through the masses toward us, armed with foamy beers in plastic cups. Neither looked overly happy until they reached us.

I'd just taken the cup from Eric when the lights went down, replaced by the deafening roar of the crowd. He gave me a quick kiss, but when the opening chords of one of Ingrid Michaelson's bigger hits sounded, Thalia hooked her arm in mine and dragged me a couple of steps closer to the stage with her, leaving Jess and Eric behind. We danced and drank our way through one song after another, and somewhere along the way I ended up with another beer in my hand. I was a little tipsy when the familiar song that I'd put on Eric's iPod began to play.

As I was leaning into Thalia to tell her I wanted to get back to Eric, I felt two fingers slide into the back pocket of my jeans and drag me backwards. Thalia looked over her shoulder with a smile and turned back to the stage.

I leaned back against Eric's chest swaying to the music, his arms encircling my waist. Midway through the song, perhaps due to my inhibitions loosened by alcohol, the significance of the song, and the energy of the crowd, I turned to Eric and pulled him to me for a kiss that would give the horny teenagers at Six Flags a run for their money.

"Christ, dude. You trying to remove Sookie's tonsils?" Jess' voice cut through my lust-clouded mind. I giggled and turned back to the stage.

A couple of hours and several more beers later I was once again dragging Eric up the stairs to my apartment, laughing as I dropped my keys for a second time in an attempt to unlock the door.

"I got it," Eric said and stripped me of the keys.

I threw myself against the door of my apartment and flung my arms out dramatically, creating a human blockade. "Wait," I teased. "You wouldn't take advantage of me in my drunken state would you?"

Eric pressed against me and murmured into my ear, "I have every intention of taking advantage of you. If that's not okay, speak now or forever hold your peace."

I didn't utter a word. Instead, my mind raced with images of what exactly that might entail. I tugged his shirt loose, and ran my finger just inside the waistband of his jeans, appreciating Eric's reaction to my light touch. The metallic scrape of the key sounded in the lock. We fell into my darkened apartment, stumbling until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of the couch. Frantic fingers, clumsy with booze, fumbled with buttons, zippers, and hooks until not a thread remained between us.

My bedroom, a mere ten steps away, may as well have been on another continent. Location is everything. Pads of his fingers gripped my flesh, pulling me urgently toward him. Skin already damp from the summer heat slickened with exertion. I reached back to wrap my fingers around his muscular neck, holding the side of his head against mine. Labored breaths became more erratic in my ear. His hand slid up my thigh and raked over my stomach on its way to my breasts. A pinch made me whimper and my head rolled back on Eric's shoulder. A building wave of intense bliss swept over me; I fell forward into the cushions and Eric soon followed, groaning my name into my ear.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Saturday morning rolled around and I woke feeling like a monkey was taking a ball peen hammer to my brain. I groaned at the cruel sunlight and wondered why I had ever agreed that we would meet up with Bill and Chip for brunch. Eric rolled over to face me, looking none the worse for wear. I smiled weakly, but my eyes were quickly drawn to a sight I hadn't seen for well over a decade.

"Oh my God." I gasped in mortification and clapped my hands over my eyes, wishing I could will away the vision before me.

"What?" Eric asked.

I shook my head, unable to look him in the eye.

"Sookie, what?" he laughed and pried my hands away from my face.

My eyes flicked down to the deep purple bruise at the base of his neck and back up to his eyes. I took a breath to speak, but hesitated.

"What?"

I covered my eyes and peeked at him through my fingers. "I gave you a hickey." I could only bear to whisper the words.

"What?" he laughed incredulously and rolled out of bed to look in the mirror. He turned his head to the side and ran his finger over my handiwork.

I balled my fist before my mouth and through gritted teeth mumbled, "I am _so _sorry," while shaking my aching head from side to side.

"You're just lucky it's low on my neck and I have a healthy supply of collared shirts." He pounced on me and made me groan again. He playfully licked my neck at the spot where I'd left my mark on him.

"I could always punish you with a matching one?"

"God, as if seeing you with that on your neck isn't punishment enough." I buried my head into the crook of his neck and wished for death.

"I guess I'm irresistible to you. Or maybe you were marking me as yours?"

I think I could safely say both of his statements were true, but I offered up a third explanation that trumped the others. "Or I was super drunk."

He raised an eyebrow and conceded with a smile, "Well, yes, there is that."

"How do you not feel awful today?" I moaned.

"I'm twice as big as you. Plus, I worked a lot of it out of my system last night." He dragged a finger up my thigh.

"Eric," I pleaded and batted away his hand. "I feel like death warmed over. And brunch with Chip and Bill sounds like the most miserable prospect I can imagine right now." I pulled my pillow over me head.

"I'm going home to get read and will bring back something for your hangover, okay?"

I nodded and curled up in a ball. I lay motionless in bed staring at the wall for nearly ten minutes, and then rallied enough to take a shower. Feeling a bit better, I slid into jeans and a cute sleeveless blouse and raided my medicine cabinet in search of ibuprofen, then sprawled out on the couch in the not-as-sunny living room.

Eric returned with a plastic cup holding a nasty looking concoction.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "What's that?"

"Don't ask, and don't be a baby about it. Just drink it."

I shot him a doubtful look.

"I guarantee if it doesn't make you puke, it will make you feel good as new."

"That's a winning endorsement." I grumbled, but popped the lid off and chugged the orangish-green brew, holding my nose, and then fell back on the couch, waiting for the wonder drink to kick in.

As advertised, I was feeling remarkably better, if not like a new woman within half an hour, and was thoroughly starved for brunch. I eyed Eric's neck carefully and was relieved to see that his hickey was fully obscured by the collar of his shirt. It seemed like the havoc I'd wreaked last night had mercifully dissipated.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I'd like the spinach and mushroom omelet," Bill told the waiter, "and a bottle of champagne. Four glasses please."

My eyes flicked to Eric. While I did feel better, the last thing I wanted or needed was to drink more alcohol after last night.

"Champagne? What's the occasion?" I smiled at Chip and Bill.

"Well," Bill began, a huge smile stretching his face, "we wanted to tell you we're getting married."

I'm fairly certain I squealed, then sprang from my chair and congratulated Bill and Chip with hugs and kisses. Eric shook their hands and did the guy half-hug back slap thing.

"Tell me everything!" I begged.

The excitement that Chip and Bill radiated was infectious; I couldn't help but smile back. "We've been talking about it for a while, and finally decided to go for it what with the move and all. It's just time for us to settle down. We're ready," Bill explained.

The waiter came back with the champagne and popped the cork.

Eric was the first to raise his glass. "To a lifetime of happiness together." If I weren't already crazy for the guy, that simple gesture would surely have done it for me. I gave him a smile, clinked glasses and took the smallest sip I could politely get away with.

Chip turned to me. "Sookie, we have a big favor to ask."

"What's that?"

"We're looking to get married on Cape Cod next month, and then have a dinner in Louisiana for Bill's southern contingent. I'll of course be planning all the details, but I need somebody to help with preparations the day of both events so I don't lose my mind. I can't imagine anybody I would trust or want to do this more than you."

I felt extremely flattered that they would ask me to do this. "It would be my absolute pleasure."

"And of course, Eric, we hope you'll be able to come as well."

"Thanks for the invitation. I'd love to come."

Not only would I want to be present for the joining of my friends, I would love to be able to help them enjoy the day by alleviating the stress of the events however I could. The thought of a weekend in Cape Cod with Eric sure didn't hurt either.

Louisiana was a whole other ball of wax though. Bill lived so close to where I'd grown up, it was practically in my back yard. I hadn't been back to visit since Gran had passed, and wasn't quite sure how I felt about the prospect of going back.

I looked across the table to Eric and imagined what Gran would have thought of him. She was an incredibly loving woman, but tough on any guy in whom I'd ever shown an interest. I think she would have taken a shine to Eric though; he was different from all the others.

The thought of the two of them meeting made me smile. I'd like to take Eric around my old stomping grounds, if for no other reason than for him to gain a sense of the woman my Gran was. From across the table Eric caught my eye and smiled at me.

Yes, Gran would most definitely have thought he was a keeper.


	24. Chapter 24

I'd figured I was pushing my luck when I called Jean-Luc to ask about a reservation on Eric's birthday. His restaurant, L'Arcadie was one of the most celebrated in the city and was always booked solid a month in advance.

"Sookie, of course for you I will find a table. Is this a special occasion?"

"Oh, thank you, Jean-Luc." I was relieved to get a table and excited at the prospect of dinner at L'Arcadie; the food was unparalleled. "And yes, it is a special occasion. It's my friend's birthday."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "A boyfriend?"

I blushed four shades of pink and was glad I was in the privacy of my office. "Uh…I…yes." I hadn't referred to Eric as my boyfriend before, although I suppose that's what he was. For some reason it felt like a funny label for him.

"C'est vraiment fantastique! We will make sure it is a very special evening."

"Thank you so much, Jean-Luc. I'll look forward to seeing you."

"A bientôt."

I collected my things and shut down the computer as soon as I hung up. Eric was waiting for me in the park to walk home, and I was running a couple of minutes late. I tossed my heels in the desk drawer and slipped on a pair of flats and rushed out the door.

When I found Eric in the park I was slightly out of breath. "Hey. Sorry I'm late." I sank down on the park bench next to him. He slung his arm around my shoulder, pulled me flush against him and pressed his lips to my forehead.

"How was the Special Events Department today?"

I relaxed my head against his shoulder and let out a breath. "Not bad…it was a pretty quiet day. But any day that I can leave at 5:30 is a good one."

We stood up and started the leisurely walk down the shaded path, our clasped hands swung back and forth. "And how was Greek and Roman?"

"All's well. We met with the conservators this morning to discuss some new developments with the restoration of the Augustus status." I imagine that meeting included Bill. I smiled to myself thinking of Bill and Chip's upcoming wedding.

"Also, it sounds like Michael Skouras wants to hold a reception in the Greek and Roman Court."

"Really?" I glanced up at Eric. Michael Skouras was on the museum's Board of Trustees. He would probably have the clout to be approved to have an event in the space. After all, he did give one of the lead gifts that enabled the museum to finance the renovation of the Court.

He nodded. "I imagine Christos will be calling you about it later this week once he's cleared it with Catherine."

"Will you be my primary contact?" I asked raising a suggestive eyebrow in question.

"Probably." A smile crossed his lips. "We worked well together on the Party of the Year, so Christos will probably just as soon I do it again rather than have Gary or Maryellen learn the ropes."

"Am I the rope in that scenario?" I teased. "Hopefully I wasn't so terrible to work with."

Eric shot me a 'give me a break' look. I shrugged.

"Oh, before I forget….we have dinner reservations Wednesday at 7:30. I'll come pick you up at 7:00?"

"I get picked up and everything?" a bemused smile crossed his lips.

"If I didn't pick you up the surprise would be ruined."

"What's the dress code?"

"You need to wear a sport coat."

He laughed. "Fancy."

I shrugged and smiled. Dinner at L'Arcadie was a little over the top, but I wanted to go somewhere special.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I knocked on Eric's door right on time. My stomach flipped at the sound of his approaching footsteps. I smoothed down my cocktail dress and licked my lips a little nervously. My nerves dissipated when I saw his half-cocked grin on the other side of the door.

"Happy birthday." I stretched up to kiss him and ran a finger down the smooth skin of his close shave. He smelled like shaving cream and soap. An arm around my back pulled me closer. I was wearing sky high heels tonight, so our height difference wasn't as pronounced as usual.

"You know, I'd be perfectly happy just staying in with you and ordering Chinese."

I shook my head no, although it was a temping thought. "Don't be ridiculous. You're in for one of the best meals of your life."

We hailed a cab and pulled up to the impressive Upper East Side stone building that housed the restaurant entrance.

"L'Arcadie?" Eric asked with surprise in his voice. "You just found out my birthday was last week. How did you swing a reservation?"

"Jean-Luc." I answered smugly.

When we entered, the maître d' of the restaurant himself showed us to our table, a quiet table in a private nook. Within a minute of being seated, our waiter arrived with an attendant in tow.

"Welcome to L'Arcadie, I'm Paul. I will be your waiter."

He ran through the standard restaurant greeting then signaled the attendant to step forward.

"Champagne for the table, compliments of Jean-Luc."

The attendant removed a bottle from the stand that I'd previous not noticed and poured a flute for the both of us.

"Joyeux anniversaire," Paul gave a little bow and left us.

"I'm impressed."

I laughed. "So am I! Happy birthday, Eric." We clinked our glasses.

From start to finish dinner was a true culinary experience; a dinner at a restaurant like L'Arcadie was an event in and of itself. From the amuse-bouche and palate cleansers between courses, to the imaginative yet perfectly harmonious flavors of each course, it was an incredible meal.

"Don't be disappointed when they don't stick a sparkler in your dessert and have the kitchen staff come out and sing for you, okay?"

I slid my hand across the crisp white cotton to Eric's and interlaced my fingers with his. Our eyes met and I smiled, thinking how easy this felt, how comfortable.

"Eric?" a woman's voice floated over my shoulder. It was such a familiar voice, but I couldn't immediately place it. Eric's eyes jumped to a spot just behind me where she stood and I could detect a surprised look that flashed across his face for a split second. I tried to retrieve my hand, but he discreetly grasped it tighter, making it impossible for me to do so.

I turned in the direction of the voice and tried to maintain a neutral expression when I saw the person the voice was attached to. I'm certain the color must have drained from my face.

"Hello, Sookie." If she was surprised to see me there with Eric, she concealed it masterfully.

I smiled politely and managed to speak with confidence, still holding Eric's hand across the table.

"Hello, Catherine."

"Jean-Luc never fails to disappoint, does he?"

"No, he certainly doesn't." I agreed with a smile that belied the pit in my stomach.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. Enjoy the rest of dinner."

When she left I closed my eyes and focused on even breathing. Then a thought crossed my mind. I pulled my hand back and opened my eyes in a flash of anger.

"Why did you hold my hand on the table?"

Eric looked away and shook his head in exasperation. "Sookie, she already saw me holding your hand when she walked up. If you'd pulled your hand away it would have looked like we were trying to hide something – well, hide us – and that would have made us both look bad."

I rubbed my forehead and nodded, conceding his point.

"You're right." I looked at my plate and then into Eric's eyes. "I'm sorry."

I stretched my hand back across the table to Eric. He gave me a small smile.

"She seemed unfazed to see us together." Eric said.

"I guess I feel relief on some level. I suppose we'll know her reaction when we see her next."

"My guess is she will act as though she knows nothing of it. I suspect it's a non-issue for her."

I shrugged. There was just no telling.

In the cab back to the Upper West Side Eric's low voice vibrated in my ear, sending a chill across my back and raising goosebumps on my arm despite the summer heat. "I'm hoping you're coming over so I can see what's under that dress. Since it's my birthday and all."

"Oh, I think that can be arranged." My sex kitten voice was laughable, but it seemed to do the trick. He nipped at my neck and his fingers slid slowly up the bare skin of my leg and under the silk skirt of my dress. It took a lot of concentration to keep from jumping at his light touch. I worked to keep my breathing under control, but it became increasingly more difficult. My eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror. The cab driver met my eyes for a moment then looked away. I didn't care what he thought was going on in the back seat.

We scooted into Eric's apartment building, waving a cursory hello to the doorman as we passed the front desk. Eric clasped my hand firmly in his and walked with purpose to the elevator. The older couple that had let me into the building that first night was waiting for the elevator too.

We all nodded hello politely and stepped onto the wood paneled cab. The journey to the fifth floor seemed excruciatingly long. We smiled and said goodnight at the fifth floor. Eric turned to me as the doors closed and fingered my pearl necklace contemplatively. He brushed his lips to mine, and when the doors opened, led me down the hall.

The lights remained off in Eric's apartment save for a small bedside lamp that cast a warm glow around the room. With great care he gathered the hair that lay over my shoulders and pushed it to the side, then slowly ran the zipper down my back. The cooler air hit my newly exposed skin, but the heat from Eric's finger burned down the same path soon after. Hands pushed apart my dress and slid it over my shoulders. Lips, nose and chin dragged across my upper back causing my knees to nearly buckle at the sensation.

I turned to face him, and he pushed the dress the rest of the way past my hips and flung it over the arm of a nearby chair. Eric's eyes ran down the length of my body taking in every detail, the lacy black bra and panties, the high heels, the pearl necklace.

He ran a finger across the top of my breast, tracing the contour of the swell. I reached back to unclasp my necklace but he shook his head to stop me. "No. Keep it on."

I looked him in the eye and held his gaze for a moment. I lowered my hands from the clasp at my neck and unhooked my bra instead.

"Anything else?" I asked, with a smirk.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Early the next afternoon I got a call from Catherine's assistant.

"Sookie, Catherine would like to meet with you. Do you have fifteen minutes this afternoon?"

I swallowed hard and my palms instantly began to sweat.

"Sure. I have a three o'clock meeting, but it shouldn't last more than half an hour."

"Let's say four."

"Okay. I'll be up then." I felt slightly nauseated. I tried to call Eric but got his voicemail. I left him a vague message and tried to focus on my work, but it was nearly impossible.

I arrived at Catherine's office at four o'clock sharp. My heart was pounding and l was as nervous as I'd been in months. I hadn't heard back from Eric to know if she'd been in touch with him too.

"Sookie, come in." There was a hint of warmth in her smile that I didn't recall seeing before. She beckoned to one of the chairs across from her desk. I'd just taken a seat and was starting to think I'd gotten worked up for nothing when there was another knock at the door.

I recognized the efficient, round face of Reena, the assistant Human Resources Director, and the pit that had been threatening my stomach opened up fully. Reena clasped a manila file in her hands and took the chair next to me.

I licked my lips and smiled nervously at them both.

"Thanks for making time in your day to meet with me," Catherine started. "It's been six months since your start date and we have been quite pleased with your work. The results of your Department have frankly exceeded my expectations. You've cut costs, and found ways to breathe new life into our events. Additionally, you secured a major donor for us at a very crucial time."

I kept waiting for the big but. It never came.

"Sookie, you've proven yourself to be an invaluable asset to the museum. I'd like to offer you a three-year contract with a 20% salary increase."

I sat in stunned silence for a long moment wondering what exactly had just transpired.

"I…." I stopped, still trying to process the situation. A hint of worry crossed Catherine's forehead for a split second.

"Please, take the night to think about it, but if you return the signed contract tomorrow morning we'll throw in a $5,000 bonus."

I smiled and extended my arm to shake her hand. "Thank you for your continued confidence in me and this generous offer. I appreciate it." I figured as long as she'd given me until the morning, I should take the time to thoroughly consider my decision.

Reena handed me the smooth manila folder. "Inside is the contract and the terms for your review. Please call me with any questions you may have." I nodded and shook her hand, then walked in a daze back to my office.

I looked over the contract at my desk for nearly half an hour in contemplation. I frankly was ready to sign when I was in Catherine's office, but a couple of thoughts had since crossed my mind that gave me pause.

I picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. "Claudine? I need to borrow your brain."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Claudine finished skimming the contract and handed it back to me with a smile on her face.

"I'm proud of you, Sookie. This is excellent."

"Excellent?" my voice was practically a register higher than usual. "Don't you find the timing of this rather….coincidental?"

"Coincidental because Catherine saw you and Eric together last night? I don't see what does that have to do with the price of tea in China."

I sighed heavily. "What if Catherine knows that Eric could potentially be leaving for Philadelphia. I mean, I presume she would know. The institutions work to keep very clear friendly communications. I haven't asked Eric, but I'm guessing they've been straightforward about it."

Claudine mulled it over for a bit. "You do have a point. She doesn't know how long you and Eric have been together. She may be worried that you're a flight risk if Eric goes."

She beamed again like a proud mother. "You've made yourself invaluable in only six months."

"Or," I offered up my alternate thought, "they think if I'm committed to the Met then Eric would stay too."

Claudine shrugged. "I don't see how either scenario should make a difference."

I let out a short breath of indignation. "Of course it makes a difference. I don't want to be a pawn."

"Sookie, don't be stupid."

I was shocked by her words.

"Sookie, how much inheritance did your Gran leave you?"

I swallowed. "A negligible amount."

"How healthy is your retirement account?"

"Retirement? Please, Claudine."

"I'm serious, Sookie. Women have to think about this. You better believe I've contributed enough to take care of myself. I love Jonathan, I can't imagine us ever not being together, but I've made sure that I'm a financially independent woman and I will be able to weather a financial storm that might come my way."

I sat silent. Processing her words, not sure that I wholeheartedly agreed with her.

"I'm an optimist, Sookie, just not a foolish one."

The fierce look that her taken over her face turned a bit more gentle. "Sookie, regardless of what happens, three years is nothing. You've already been at the Met for half a year. It's flown by, hasn't it?"

I nodded, but thought about the fact that I'd be 35 when three years was up.

"Sleep on it, Sookie. I know you'll do the right thing."

* * *

_**A/N Oh, boy...decisions, decisions.  
**__**My continued gratitude goes out to Miss Construed for pre-reading and offering great suggestions.  
**__**Thank you for continuing to read this...and a big thanks to you reviewers.  
**__**My apologies for not responding to reviews after the last chapter, but know  
**__**that you are the Polo to my Marco ;) Thanks for making all this infinitely more fun!**_

_**xo, Pfloogs **_


	25. Chapter 25

_**Oh, dear readers...my sincerest apologies for the very long gap in time between Chapter 24 and 25. Between work and real life, I've been severly time deficient. I hope to finish this story up without further delays. My thanks to those of you who are still reading, alerting, favoriting and reviewing - you're the best for hanging in there with me!**_

_**A big, big thank you to Miss Construed for reading through this and making sure it's coherent. You're reading her surfer fic aren't you? If not, go do it!**_

_**Thanks so much for reading!**_

_**-Pfloogs**_

* * *

Three years. 1,095 days. 705 works days when vacations and holidays were discounted. 156 weekends. It represented over ten percent of my 32 years. I know time flies, but three years was not an insignificant amount of time in my mind.

I flipped open the manila folder and again looked at the outrageous salary that was on the table. It was a number designed to get my attention, and it had certainly succeeded.

A part of me wanted to talk to Eric about the contract, but a larger part knew we weren't there yet. This was my decision; I needed to sort it out for myself. I enjoyed my job and I was good at what I did. My employer was vested in keeping me happy, or at least in keeping me at the museum.

I closed the folder again, laid my head down on top of it, and closed my eyes. I would have signed it without a second thought if it weren't for Eric. Rather, I would have signed without a second thought if it weren't for the possibility of Eric moving to Philadelphia. A dull ache had taken up residence in my head as I teased the possibilities out in my head again and again.

Eventually I pushed myself up, opened the folder again, and fished my calculator out of the desk drawer. The salary increase would most certainly enable me to purchase an apartment. Home ownership was among my top goals, but the sky-high cost of Manhattan real estate had always made it seem like the most elusive one. I should be cracking open a bottle of champagne and celebrating, but instead I crawled into bed to sleep on it, hoping I would have some clarity in the morning.

I arrived early at the museum and went directly to Catherine's office. Her assistant wasn't in yet, but the door was slightly cracked and the light was on. I tried to rearrange my grim features into something more pleasant, and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

I pushed the door open just enough to slip in. Catherine looked up from her desk and a tight smile formed when she saw that it was me.

"You've made a decision?"

My heart pounded. "Yes, I have." I handed her the manila folder. I was embarrassed to see it was noticeably shaking in my outstretched hand. She took it from me and flipped back the cover. I swallowed hard. She looked back up to me with a more comfortable look on her face.

"Excellent. We'll get this processed right away."

"Thank you, Catherine." I turned and left her office. As soon as I passed her door I rushed down the carpeted hallway to the bathroom and into the privacy of a cold grey metal stall. The rush of hot spit threatened to spill the contents of my stomach. I leaned over the toilet in anticipation, but within a minute it passed. I brushed tears away from my cheeks and took a few deep breaths to regain my composure. After smoothing down my blouse, I exited the stall to check my face in the mirror. I stared at my reflection for a good minute, noticing how the garish glow of the fluorescent light showed every line and flaw on my face. As the seconds ticked by, it seemed the face looking back at me morphed into that of a stranger. I tore my eyes away from the image, forced out a breath and shook my head to try to clear my mind, and then headed down to my office to start the day.

What should have been a fantastic day was anything but. My mind vacillated wildly; one moment I would puff up with "I am woman, hear me roar" thoughts and feel proud of my achievements, but inevitably tendrils of doubt would creep into my chest, suffocating any momentary feelings of triumph. Financial success and a career were important, but they certainly weren't everything. The bottom line was I wanted it all. I hoped I wasn't jeopardizing my personal life for my career.

The Saturday morning after I'd made my decision, Eric and I were lazing over coffee, bagels and the crossword in bed. We were puzzling over a five-letter word for 'outcropping' that started with the letter 'j'. The word was dancing on the edge of my mind, taunting me, but I just couldn't call it up. I hadn't been able to come up with any words that morning; the burden of my unshared "good news" made it impossible for me to focus on much of anything else.

"Jetty." Eric scribbled the letters on the paper with the ballpoint pen then flashed me a victorious smile. "You're 0 for 6 so far this morning. What gives?" He arched an eyebrow and examined me. "So much sex you can't think straight? Cause if that's the case, I'm sorry but the crossword will just have to suffer."

I laughed and rolled on my side to face Eric. "No, my mind's just been a little preoccupied with work."

Eric's hands settled in his lap with the paper. He waited for me to continue.

"Catherine offered me a big raise."

Eric tossed the paper and pen onto the floor and rolled to face me with a smile. "That's great news." His hand slid under my t-shirt across my ribcage and down my side until settling on the curve of my hip. "Why's that weighing on your mind?" His thumb ran back and forth mindlessly across the sensitive skin of my stomach.

"The raise comes with a three-year contract."

His face gave up nothing, but I noticed his thumb stilled at the mention of three years. After a moment his thumb resumed its lazy sweep. "Three years isn't as long as it seems. I've been at the Met for nine already."

"Nine years?" I shook my head incredulously. "But I guess I was with Crane for seven. I suppose in retrospect it did seem to go by fast, but the prospect of it feels a bit like a sentence."

"You can't think of it as a sentence. Catherine's smart. She knows she's got a good thing and doesn't want to let you go."

We held each other's gaze for a significant moment before I looked away with a half-hearted laugh in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness I felt. In a swift move that took my off guard, Eric rolled on top of me and pinned my hands above my head. I squirmed futilely for a couple of seconds, then relaxed in his grip.

"There's no use worrying about a decision that's been made." We were nose to nose. My stomach dropped as his lips lightly brushed across mine. "This is a good thing, Sookie." My breathing became unsteady when the tip of his nose dragged along the ridge of my jaw, his warm breath trailing behind. His voice rumbled low in my ear, "And you need to be properly and thoroughly congratulated."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

If Eric had any misgivings about my decision, he hid them well. I felt foolishly disappointed that he didn't show a concerned reaction to my news, but it cemented the belief that I'd chosen wisely.

The slower pace of summer was a welcome break from the rest of the busy year. The weeks of June slipped by in a lazy stream, and I had time to catch up with friends and simply enjoy life.

Even Felicia and I had lunch; it seemed that everything with Victor was going well. So well, in fact, that Felicia thought an engagement might be on the horizon. I hoped that wouldn't be the case - at least not so soon - but only time would tell.

I was sad to resign my regular volunteer post at the group home, but with Eric in my life, I found my Friday nights were a more precious commodity than they had previously been. I planned to go back on occasion, and of course my board responsibilities would be starting up in August, so I would still be involved.

I worked diligently to keep a balance of time for myself, time with my friends, and time with Eric, but I found that time with Eric tended to win out over the others. We were usually together one, if not both nights of the weekend, and a couple of nights during the week.

Chip moved to the city in early July, and I met with him a couple of times to go over the wedding details. It wouldn't be a stressful weekend for me, but I would be occupied all day Saturday. Fortunately Eric and I were driving up Thursday night so we'd have a free day on Friday to explore the Cape together.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"What turnoff am I looking for?"

"Monomoy Road. It should be coming up on the left." I strained my eyes searching for an indication of a street in the pitch darkness. Eric flashed the high beams and a tiny street sign glowed green in the inky black. The road wound through a heavily wooded area, passing darkened houses from time to time.

"You sure this is right?" Eric asked with more than a hint of skepticism in his voice.

"According to this map it is. I can feel in the air that we're getting closer to the water. The place is just off the beach." The cool air became more humid until I could taste the salt on my tongue. A cluster of dark masses huddled on either side of the road, and at the very end of the road, a porch light illuminated the front door of a tiny, shingled bungalow with a soft glow.

"That must be it." I pointed to the right. "Bill said they'd leave the light on and the door unlocked for us." It was nearly half past one in the morning and it appeared that everybody else was already asleep. The bungalow was part of a compound of sorts that belonged to a camp about a mile down the beach in Brewster where Chip had spent the summers of his youth, first as a camper and then as a counselor. Chip and Bill rented the entire compound for their extended families and had been kind enough to offer us a place to stay as well.

We rolled to a stop in front of the wooden steps, and crunched as quietly as possible across the gravel with our bags and through the squeaky screened door that puffed out from years of knees and elbows pushing an exit. The quilt covered brass bed issued a loud metallic creak when I collapsed onto it, and I was nearly swallowed by the soft mattress. My horizontal position quickly ushered in exhaustion, and I took in the interior of the room through bleary eyes. The white bead board walls were hung with vintage Cape Cod postcards, a black and white lithograph of Jack Kerouac, and an antique cross-stitch sampler that was yellowed with age. A battered rocking chair in the corner complemented the simple Shaker design of the other furnishings. Every piece echoed the Americana ubiquitous on the Cape.

Eric had busied himself unpacking his bag while I dozed off. A gentle tug on my foot brought me back to consciousness and I fought to open my eyes.

"I know, I know," I growled sleepily. I grunted and with great effort, rolled out of the depths of the mattress to a sitting position, and rubbed my eyes. With a heave I managed to stand, and peeled out of my clothes and into a white cotton camisole nightgown that skimmed a few inches above the knees. After rushing through my bathroom routine I fell right back into bed and drifted into a deep sleep.

The sounds of passing voices and shuffled gravel dragged my consciousness to the surface Friday morning, and I found myself entangled with Eric in the deep valley that was the middle of the mattress, my face jammed into his bare chest. The luxury of an entire free day with him stretched before me, and although I was ready to get the day started, I was in no rush to leave bed.

It soon became apparent I wasn't the only one inclined to spend more time in bed, but after another hour the need drove us to get on the road. First stop was a hippy dippy coffee shop the size of a postage stamp packed with wind chimes, crystals and tie-dyed shirts for bagels and coffee to fortify ourselves before our day trip.

Originally we'd planned to drive all the way to Provincetown on the tip of the Cape, but the call of the beach was too strong for me, and Eric was nice enough to acquiesce. We ended up spending a lazy day on Marconi beach, soaking up the sun and playing backgammon over beers and sandwiches. Surrounded by steep dunes topped with undulating waves of sea grass, the wide beach was less crowded than I'd anticipated. The bracing cold of the murky green water kept us beach bound aside from quick, shockingly cold dips from time to time to relieve the occasional stinging bites of the black flies and the heat of the strong sun.

In the early afternoon we headed back to Brewster, and took a restorative nap before showering in preparation for the clambake Chip and Bill had planned for guests who were already on the Cape. The quintessential Cape clambake and bonfire were the perfect ending to the day. We turned in relatively early to rest up for the long day to come.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After a gigantic brunch in Chatham and swearing up and down that I wouldn't possibly be able to eat again for at least two days, Eric dropped me off at the camp for the day. In anticipation of a day chock full of wedding set-up, I'd brought my dress for the evening with me, doubtful I'd have the chance to return to our bungalow to primp. I didn't mind; I was used to dressing up on the fly.

I worked my tail off for the next six hours overseeing the efforts of the caterer, rental company, florist, and the band; hopefully carrying out Bill and Chip's wishes to a tee. A couple of Chip's young cousins came by in the afternoon to help with some of the last minute details.

Luckily it had been a cloudy, cool day so I wasn't a sweaty mess when it was finally time to change. I'd taken over one of the sun bleached cabins nearest the beach, and within minutes I'd shimmied into a summery robin's egg blue strapless dress, pulled on my white cardigan, and arranged my sun streaked hair into a loose bun that I thought even Lafayette might approve. Voices on the path outside put me into high gear and I glanced down at my watch to see I needed to get back out for the onslaught of guests. I hurriedly applied just enough makeup to look like I'd made an effort, and with a last glance in the cloudy mirror littered with several summers worth of stickers, flew out the door.

For a moment I felt guilty for leaving my clothes strewn across the cabin, but a glimpse of the distant photographer looking for me and the ringing of my cell phone wiped my mind clean of everything but the job at hand. The next hour was a whirlwind of activity – arriving guests, darting children, family photos, a stray musician and last minute questions from the caterer kept me dashing until at last Bill and Chip were headed down the aisle of the camp's outdoor theater. When they reached the outdoor podium that had been dressed up to serve as an altar, I slid inconspicuously onto a bench near the back next to Eric and let out a breath of relief that my duties were almost complete.

The simple ceremony was quite traditional aside from the fact that two men were marrying. Normally I would be thrilled by the prospect of a short twenty-minute Protestant ceremony, but today I could have used a little more recovery time before rushing to the old wooden pavilion that was serving as the dinner location to cue the musicians and alert the catering staff that guests would be arriving momentarily. Much to my relief, the team was in place and ready to go, and soon guests were mingling on the sprawling lawn for cocktails.

The cloud cover broke during the ceremony, dousing everybody in the warm golden glow of the last sunlight of the day. Eric and I surveyed the crowd, many of whom we had met the night before at the clambake.

"I feel a little awkward for not having something embroidered on my pants or my belt." Eric's voice was low enough to reach only my ears.

"Psssh." I hissed and took another sip of my Southside, then suppressed a laugh when I realized just how many men actually were wearing items adorned with whales, lobsters anchors and the like. I knew for a fact that the majority of the guests had traveled to the Cape for the wedding, but they certainly had dressed the part for a New England beach party. I'd never seen so many bowties, bright colors and seersucker in one place.

"I think you look perfectly acceptable," I teased when I turned back and took in Eric's commanding figure in white pants, blue shirt and navy sport coat. It was nothing original, but he certainly looked the part.

"Acceptable?" His forehead drew up into a series of skeptical lines.

I rolled my eyes. "You look like you just strolled off the Kennedy compound."

"That's a good thing?"

I pulled Eric's ear down so I could tell him discreetly just exactly what I thought. My murmured confession was uncharacteristically brazen enough to earn a predatory look from Eric and bring a flush to my cheeks. Before either of us could say anything further I was pulled away to the dinner pavilion by the catering captain to answer some last minute questions, so I flashed a sly smile at Eric to say that we'd continue our conversation later as I retreated across the lawn.

I gasped when I reached the top step to what was essentially a rambling, oversized gazebo. "Wow." I'd obviously been involved with the set up of the space, but the special lighting had been turn on, and coupled with the darkening day, had transformed the pavilion since I'd last seen it. Tiny white lights festooned the wooden ribs that ran like spokes around the large circular structure. Red paper lanterns hung along the perimeter, and old-fashioned barn lanterns of polished brass anchored the long rectangular tables and cast a soft glow over the ticking-striped table linens and simple blue hydrangea arrangements.

"Are we good to put down the first course?" the captain asked.

I surveyed the crowd and took a look at my watch. They'd be ready to move in ten minutes. I nodded. "Yes, it's time."

Catching Chip's eye below, I flashed him a signal that we'd be moving into dinner in ten minutes, and then gathered the trio of musicians from the lawn and moved them into place. After double checking Chip and Bill's table to make sure everything was perfect, I stood aside to let the servers place the cold lobster salads at each place.

Once the last plates were down, a handful of servers circulated through the crowd and invited guests to dinner. Within a couple of minutes the guests were streaming into the pavilion. I did my best to stay out of the fray while still keeping an eye out to make sure there were no seating snafus.

I jumped when two hands gripped my hips from behind, but relaxed when I heard Eric's voice in my ear.

"Care to expand on what you were saying earlier?"

I swiveled my head in his direction with a coy smile on my face and disregarded his question. "We really should be getting to our seats, you know." I reached back for his hand and took a step forward, but Eric didn't budge. I looked back and caught just the hint of a smile on his face. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

I hitched my eyebrow to mirror his. "Later," I smirked and this time successfully led him through the crowd to our places at a table full of Bill and Chip's friends from New York City. The dinner progressed smoothly and I was feeling quite relaxed by the time Chip rose to speak.

The din of the crowd silenced and everybody turned their attention to Chip and Bill at the front of the pavilion. Chip cleared his throat nervously, looked to Bill for quick reassurance, and then began to speak in a voice colored with emotion.

"Thank you for being with us this evening to celebrate our marriage. For me, being able to marry at the camp where I spent my summers as a kid is especially poignant. I loved going to camp, it was a transformational place for me, and I formed friendships that I still cherish to this day." He paused to nod to a table of what I assumed were his old camp friends on the right side of the pavilion.

"At that time I didn't think I would ever get married. And that wasn't because I was a kid who thought it was a crazy concept. At the time I didn't think marrying the person I loved would be a possibility." Chip's eyes shone with joy and gratitude and he smiled at Bill, and wiped a tear from his cheek. He took a moment to steady his voice and continued. As I dabbed tears away from the corners of my eyes with my fingertip and sniffled a bit I could hear others around me doing the same. Eric squeezed my hand and gave me a small smile.

"Bill and I feel so lucky and are so grateful, firstly to our parents and families for your love, for your understanding and for your acceptance. You've allowed us to be who we are, and we know that hasn't always been easy." I caught a glimpse of Bill's and Chip's parents across the room. They were beaming with pride.

"And to all of our friends here tonight, thank you for making up the tapestry of our life. We are richer for having you in our lives. Now let's have fun!" He raised a glass of champagne and the rest of the crowd followed suit. Then the band started up and Bill and Chip took the floor. They were soon joined by their parents. I turned to Eric to ask if he'd want to dance, but before I said a word noticed that Chip's much younger sister Cheryl was tapping Eric on the shoulder.

"Excuse me. Would you like to dance with me?" She asked nervously and seemed to be asking me for permission as much as Eric. I beamed and with a hand upturned to Eric said, "Of course." I threw a wink to Eric as Cheryl dragged him across the crowded room to the dance floor and laughed to myself. Cheryl had been drooling over Eric at the clambake, a fact which he'd vehemently denied last night. Not that I blamed her.

Before the song was over, I was on the dance floor with one of my tablemates, a designer named Don who'd driven up this morning from the city with his partner, Kevin. Neither Eric nor I left the dance floor for the next several songs. We were passed around from partner to partner – me among Chip and Bill's friends, and Eric among Chip and Bill's sisters, cousins, and aunts. Apparently word was out amongst their clan that Eric was available for dancing, and their extended family members were taking numbers.

I caught Eric's eye whenever I could on the dance floor, and a couple of times we'd been close enough to almost brush shoulders, but we were being good guests and circulating among the crowd. Eric was a good sport, but I knew his humor was getting a workout. Bill's familiar voice over the music was a relief, "May I cut in?"

I practically leapt into his arms after thanking his friend Adam for dancing with me. "You and Eric have certainly been in demand this evening." I laughed wearily and smiled at him.

"You have very charming friends. Good dancers too."

"Would you really expect any less?" He gave me a half-cocked grin.

I laughed and shook my head and realized he'd been artfully leading me across the dance floor toward Eric and his sister. "I don't suppose you'd like to spend some time with your boyfriend?" I gave him a grateful smile and a peck on the cheek before he cut in, and finally I was in Eric's arms.

I sank tiredly into his chest and savored the familiarity for a moment, then backed up with a wrinkled nose and looked at Eric.

"What?" he asked when he saw my expression.

"You smell like the perfume counter at Macy's," I laughed. A cocktail of scents clung to him, running the gamut from floral, to citrus to cloyingly sweet

He shot me a look. I could see the spark of mischief in his eye. "Let me remind you…._you're_ the one who practically pushed me into Cheryl's arms to begin with. Maybe _you_ were just looking for a way to dance with every guy here."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're jealous?"

"Maybe," he smiled.

I expounded on my previous question. "You're jealous that I've been dancing with every gay man in a twenty mile radius?" I continued laughing with incredulity.

He didn't answer, instead pressing a light kiss to my forehead. "Tired?" he asked. His lips brushed my skin and made me shiver.

I nodded. It had been a long day, and the last couple of hours of socializing had drained whatever remaining energy I had.

"How about one dance, then let's get out of here," I suggested. One dance turned into three, and by the end, we were both done for the night. We made the rounds to say goodbye, then slipped out of the warm glow of the pavilion into the darkness. The pavilion was an open-air structure, but the night air was much cooler without the throng of a crowd. We'd taken a few steps toward the car when I remembered the mess I'd left in the cabin.

Eric groaned, but followed me down the sandy path to the cabin. Quickly I shoved my things into my bag without bothering to fold them and after a quick visual sweep of the cabin, was ready to go. From the cabin we could hear the crash of waves on the beach.

"It must be high tide. Would you be up for walking home along the beach? We can walk back to get the car tomorrow."

Eric slid an arm around me and led me toward the water. Soon the faint sounds of music and voices from the pavilion were drowned out by the waves, and we reached the end of the wooden planked sidewalk that emptied us onto the beach. We stowed our shoes in my bag and tromped over the cool sand. The sand underneath my bare feet was soothing.

A sliver of a moon gave us enough light so we could pick a clear path through the sand, and soon we saw the light of our little bungalow ahead. We passed the sight of the previous night's bonfire, and came upon the dunes that flanked the path to our bungalow.

"Can we sit out here for a bit?" I asked.

"As long as you don't fall asleep on me."

"I can't make any promises," I laughed. "It's just such a nice evening. Only for a little bit."

I positioned myself between Eric's legs and leaned my back again his chest, looking out toward the water.

"One wedding celebration down, one to go. Are you sure you're ready for Louisiana?"

I couldn't hear his initial response over the sound of the waves, but I could feel the rumble in his chest.

"You're going to give me the Sookie tour, right? I want to see where you grew up."

"Of course. Although it's been so long I don't know how much I'll remember, but I can definitely show you the highlights."

I could feel Eric pause before he asked his next question and it made me brace myself. "What about your brother?"

I swallowed hard. It was a question that I'd needed to address for weeks, but kept pushing off. "I don't know," I shook my head.

Eric gave me a minute to think which I appreciated.

"I just don't know that I want to see him."

Eric silence spoke volumes. "You think I should see him, don't you."

"It's your decision, Sookie. I'll support whatever you decide, but he's your family. It seems you only have something to gain if you're able to repair the rift between you."

He was right, of course. Irrationally it kind of irritated me.

"Maybe so. I'll think about it. I don't have the same relationship you do with you sister though."

"We've had to work at it. Our mom's a good referee."

For a flash I imagined Eric's intact family and thought of my non-existent one and smiled bitterly out at the water, then quickly quashed the thought with a shake of the head. Pity parties would accomplish nothing for me. Eric hands ran up and down my arms a few times then wrapped around me and pulled me to him.

"Gran was a good ref too. But Jason and I should be able to function without the intervention of our elders." I let a handful of sand slide through my fingers a couple of times meditatively. "I'll think about it," I promised.

"I've been meaning to tell you I've had a work trip come on my calendar in September."

"Oh? What fabulous destination are you off to this time?" I prepared myself for the flood of jealousy that was sure to come.

"Paris. It's an annual meeting of my peers from the Met's sister institutions."

"I'm officially jealous. One of these days I really am going to stow myself in your suitcase." I joked.

"I was hoping you might want to come with me."

I froze then turned to look at him. "Really?" I was thoroughly surprised.

"I know it breaks your "no traveling with other people" and your "don't go to the same place twice" rules, so I'm prepared for you to say no."

"No, no, no." I shook my head to tell him he had me all wrong and repeated myself, "no, no, no," and smiled. "I'd love to go." He smiled back at me and I tackled him with a kiss.

"Well, now that _that's_ settled, can we finish the conversation you started before dinner?" I laughed at his persistence.

My lips hovered around his earlobe, and I realized that I'd gotten a second wind. "Yep." I murmured. "But let's go back to our bungalow."

"No reenacting the Piña Colada song?"

I laughed and shook my head. "Not a chance."


	26. Chapter 26

_I hope you're all enjoying the holidays! Thanks so much for sticking with this story despite the gaps between chapters. Event season is finally done, so I'm hoping to wrap this story up with a more bit more regular schedule. I also must apologize for not responding to reviews recently - between work and the holidays I just haven't been able to do so. I do so appreciate them though!_

_It's almost time for the start of the Saint Eric contest hosted by peppermintyrose! Ever wonder why Eric is so frequently portrayed as perfect and Sookie is the one with all the flaws in stories? Now is the chance to have some fun with this - help turn the tables and write a story for submission. Entries are being accepted Jan 1 – Feb 25. For additional details, go to www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net / ~sainteric_

_And a big, big thanks to **Miss Construed** for prereading this story, correcting my mistakes and helping to keep me on the right path._

_Have a Happy New Year!_

* * *

I shifted my weight in the familiar booth, breaking the uncomfortable seal that had formed in the last ten minutes between the cracked tobacco brown naugahyde and the backs of my legs. For probably the four hundredth time I slid my fingers up the pebbled plastic of my iced tea cup to clear it of condensation, trying to keep the nervous knot in my stomach at bay.

The front door of the restaurant swung open, emitting a blinding slice of Louisiana afternoon sun. I squinted and made out the silhouette of my brother surrounded by a halo of dust motes. When the door slammed shut behind him, my eyes readjusted to the dim room and I could see he hadn't changed much in the last three years. I took a fortifying breath and gave him a little wave when his eyes searched me out. He tipped his head coolly to a few people as he picked his way across to me, and stooped to offer me a hug that was more the rote scissoring of joints than a display of affection. He slid into the booth across the table and gave me an approving glance.

"Hey Sook. Good to see you."

I pursed my lips into a smile and squeezed his hand across the hand to try to establish some sort of connection. "You too. How you been?"

He shrugged his shoulders and pulled his hand back from me to signal a passing waitress to bring him a beer. "You know. Same ole same ole." Jason cast a glance around, I imagined to buy himself time to think of something to say. "So, what brings you to town?"

"A wedding. Well, a post-wedding celebration. My friends Bill and Chip got married a couple of weeks ago in Massachusetts."

Jason's eyes zeroed in on mine and narrowed. "What kind of a girl's name is Chip?"

"It's a man's name."

After a long, thoughtful pause Jason continued, "So Bill's a girl?" I couldn't keep my mouth from creeping into a small smile at the genuine look of confusion on Jason's face. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Plus, to say rural Louisiana wasn't quite as progressive as New York City was an understatement.

"Bill and Chip are both men, Jase." I leveled him a look warning him to leave it at that.

Confounded, he shook his head and just left it at "Pshh. Ooh-kay." He muttered something under his breath that sounded like 'bunch of flaming liberals' as he took a swig from his beer, but I chose to ignore it. We didn't exactly see eye to eye on politics and social issues, and I doubted we ever would. It was nothing I wanted to broach with him today or any day, really. We sat in silence for a few moments, studying our respective drinks.

"Listen, Jase, I don't have an agenda here. I was just hoping we could visit a bit. It's been a long while."

Jason bit the inside of his mouth and nodded his head. I asked him the requisite questions about his job and long-time girlfriend, Crystal. I told him a little about my new job, but tried to keep the conversation on common ground. Jason caught me up on all the Bon Temps gossip, which actually took quite some time. For a small town it sure had enjoyed more than its fair share of scandal.

After an hour and a half we were laughing and joking comfortably, and I felt that a weight I hadn't even realized was on my shoulders had been lifted. I looked down at my watch; Eric would be picking me up in just a few minutes.

"You gotta go?"

"Eric's picking me up and we need to get over to the dinner early so I can help set up."

"Eric?" He kicked my foot under the table and waggled his eyebrows. "You gotta man, Sook?"

"Yes, Jason," I said like an exasperated seventeen year old. In an instant we'd slipped back in time to high school; Jason had teased me relentlessly about boys. Not that I'd been too active on the dating scene. He teased, but he was also overprotective and scared off all but the most determined of suitors.

"Well why didn't you say something earlier?"

I rolled my eyes.

"So what does _Eric_ do?" he said emphasizing Eric's name in a goofy way.

"He's a curator of Greek and Roman Art at the museum."

Jason's eyes glazed over a bit and his shoulders slumped in disappointment. I kicked Jason back under the table.

"Don't judge him until you meet him." I could just imagine what Jason was envisioning and the thought almost made me laugh.

"But a curator, Sook? I don't even really know what that is." He sighed with dashed hopes and grumbled, "He probably always has his nose in a book." In Jason's mind, that was the kiss of death.

The glare of the open door blinded me again, and I gathered from the large frame that it was Eric. Eric saw me right away and threaded his way through the tables to us. Jason looked up to take in the stranger, never processing that this could be Eric and instantly went on the offensive.

"You need something, dude?"

"Jason," I reprimanded his rudeness. "This is Eric."

"Oh, hey….sorry, man." Jason rose and gave Eric a hearty handshake and a smile of relief. "You weren't what I was expecting."

"No problem. Good to meet you, Jason." Eric wore an expression on his face that Jason would read as friendly, but that I knew was one of slight amusement. I left a bill on the table to cover our check and stood. Eric pulled me to his side and brushed a quick kiss to my temple.

"So, Eric – you play hoops?" In Bon Temps, athletic proficiency was the most valued social currency, and Jason was sizing up Eric's worth. I just wasn't sure to what end.

Eric gave a nonchalant shrug. "Sure, I still play a bit."

"Man, that's great. We lost our big guy for our weekly Sunday morning game. You want to fill in?" Jason

I couldn't suppress my groan. For one, I wasn't much of a sports fan, although the prospect of watching Eric play basketball didn't sound bad. But then there was the high school factor. I knew that the guys Jason played with were all guys I'd grown up with, as were most of their girlfriends and wives. I didn't particularly crave spending time in their company, even if it was just an hour or so.

Eric looked at and me questioningly and Jason pleaded. "Aw, come on Sook. Let Eric play with us. Hoyt busted his ankle this week and we don't stand a chance without him."

"Hey, if Eric wants to, it's fine with me." I wasn't going to be that woman who determined what her boyfriend could or couldn't do. Although this was one of those instances I'd like to exercise that sort of influence.

"So you in?" Jason asked. "We play up there behind the high school at 10."

"Sure," Eric said and they did one of those guy handshake things. "See you then."

Jason gave me a peck on the cheek and strutted out of the restaurant, clearly invigorated by his improved prospects for the basketball game.

"So, how'd it go?" Eric asked, steering me to the door with the hand anchored on the small on my back.

"Pretty good. A little awkward at first, but we broke the ice with town gossip." I chuckled at the ridiculousness of it. "We didn't talk about anything substantive, but that's okay – we never really have. We're in a better place now, and that's what's important."

We pushed through the door, immediately engulfed by the oppressive heat, and shuffled across the baking parking lot to the car.

"Listen, if you don't want to go tomorrow I can bail out. I'm not exactly dying to play basketball."

"No, no. It's fine." I waved my hand to dismiss the thought. "I just dread seeing the people who will be there more than anything."

Eric's eyebrows pulled together in concern. "Why?"

"Just stupid high school stuff. It wasn't exactly the high point of my life and I'm not looking forward to revisiting any of it. Jason's friends didn't make things easier for me either." I considered for a moment and continued. "But I would like for you and Jason to get to know each other a bit. And I guess in a way it was nice of Jason to ask, even if it's to gain an advantage in a stupid basketball game."

I caught the smirk on his face as he pulled the passenger door on the rental car open for me. It suddenly clicked that he'd agreed to play solely to get to know Jason better.

With a fistful of Eric's shirt firmly in my grasp, I pulled him down to me and planted a kiss on his lips. Before I could slide into the car, Eric slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him for a longer kiss, making me temporarily forget that we were in a dusty parking lot of my old hometown.

"Think they'd miss us if we didn't show for dinner?" Eric mumbled into my mouth.

For a split second I evaluated just how bad it would be if we didn't show, then laughed for even entertaining the temptation. It would be really bad. "Yes, we would most definitely be missed. Especially since that's the whole reason we're in Louisiana and I'm expected to be there in an hour to help with some last minute details for Chip."

I thought I detected a low groan when I disentangled myself from Eric's embrace and ducked into the car. As we sped down the road into town, I gave some thought to the last half hour. Surely Eric wouldn't invest the time and energy into getting to know my brother if he was planning to up and move to Philadelphia. I allowed a seed of hope to take root in my heart.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The dinner for Chip and Bill was one of the most wonderful affairs I had ever attended in many years of memorable events. It bore the warmth and quirky traditions that were the hallmarks of Southern hospitality without giving up a drop of sophistication. The evening took place in the Compton family's stately ancestral home. It was an historic house about twenty miles from my Gran's, but a world away from the Louisiana that had been my childhood.

I loved getting a glimpse of the Louisiana I'd only seen in magazines, and I was glad to be able to share the Southern experience with Eric. An astonishing silver service was polished to perfection, and china that had been in the Compton family for generations was trotted out for the occasion. Lovely arrangements of heirloom roses from the property's garden graced the tables that were lit with gleaming candelabras and perfumed the air. A trio of musicians played classical music throughout cocktails and dinner.

Following dessert, the sixty guests retreated to the sprawling lawn illuminated by lanterns hanging from the trees for after-dinner drinks and dancing to a Zydeco band that was a favorite of Bill. Watching even the most proper of Bill's elderly relatives cut loose and enjoy themselves was a sight to behold, and put everybody in a celebratory mood. Bill and Chip jumped a broom to symbolize their marriage and give a nod to the centuries old tradition. We danced until my feet hurt so much they could no longer bear my weight, and necessitated Eric giving me a piggyback ride back to the car.

As exceptional as the dinner had been, a surprise highlight of the weekend came the next morning at the basketball game that had been looming over my head since Jason had mentioned it the day before. I shifted in the car seat uneasily when the high school came into view and checked my face in the mirror.

"You look great, Sookie. Nothing to worry about."

"Humph." Easy for him to say. He'd never had the pleasure of meeting my ex-best friend, the backstabbing Arlene and her equally charming husband Rene. Jason was just getting out of the truck when we pulled into the parking lot behind the school. We were the first to arrive, but I knew everybody else would be here shortly. These guys may be late to work and skip church most Sundays, but they were serious about their basketball.

"Hey man, glad you showed. I thought Sookie might've kept you from coming."

I shot an eye dagger at Jason then turned back to Eric.

"I'm going to run to the Grabbit Kwik and get a couple bottles of water. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Grab me one of them purple Gatorades, will you Sook?"

"Sure Jase."

I hopped in the car before he could ask me for anything else and watched them head for the court in my rearview mirror. By the time I returned it looked like everybody else had arrived and the game was nearly underway. I could see Arlene's flaming hair in the bleachers. It was what I would describe as Hot Tamale red, and was even more obnoxious than it had been the last time I'd seen her. Rene was unfortunately the first to spot me walking toward the bleachers, and he bellowed to me from the court.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Sookie Stackhouse in the flesh."

His word choice and accompanying leer gave me the creeps, and I could see from the expression that flashed across Eric's face that he was none too pleased with Rene either. The years had not been kind to Rene. His thinning hair, beer gut and puffy face made it difficult to find in him the guy who had once been such a big stud at Bon Temps High.

"Hey everybody," I waved to the assemblage on the court and forced the corners of my mouth into a friendly smile.

I said my hellos to the wives and girlfriends I knew sitting in the bleachers, and settled into what seemed to be the safest location conversationally speaking and exchanged a few banal pleasantries with Crystal and Portia Bellefleur before tipoff. I could hear a few whispered comments about Eric from some of the ladies around me, and I suspected they were watching this game, and Eric in particular, with more interest than usual.

Eric and Jason worked well together on the court, and drained shot after shot into the basket. Rene had managed to retain his athletic ability despite his physical decline, but he was looking a little winded. He was no match for Eric who blocked his shots time and again; he wasn't cutting Rene any slack, which was fine by me. Rene's team was getting shellacked, and Jason was clearly enjoying himself.

Arlene, tired of watching Rene's team get stomped, turned around and beckoned me down to her. "Come here, Sookie Stackhouse. I want to catch up with you."

I reluctantly obliged and scooted down to take a seat next to her. The moment I was within range she began recounting the renovations Rene was making to their house ad nauseum, and pulled out a photo album from her gigantic straw purse that tracked every stage and milestone in the lives of her two children, Lisa and Cody. I feigned fascination and asked the obligatory questions before she thought to ask me a single question about my life.

"So now, what is it you're doing in New York City?"

"I plan events at the Metropolitan Museum of Art."

I stopped myself from further explanation when I saw the pitying smile on her face. Her eyes flashed down to see the bare ring finger of my left hand. She shook her head slowly from side to side and patted my hand.

"Aww honey. I'm sure that's a really neat job. But no husband? No kids? Life must feel pretty empty for you."

My mouth was half-open in astonishment as I labored to formulate an appropriate response when the whistle blew ending the first half. Eric jogged over toward us and lifted his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, giving me and everybody else in the bleachers a glimpse of his world-class abs. He planted a foot on the lowest bench, leaned over to fence me in between his arms, and gave me a quick kiss. "You doing okay?" he asked in a low voice only audible to me.

I nodded and murmured back, "Just kiss me again." I was not a fan of public displays of affection, but I thought the occasion called for it.

He palmed the back of my head with one hand and gave me a kiss that Arlene wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. With a wink, he grabbed a bottle of water and headed back to the court. We watched him join the others and then I smiled sweetly back at Arlene.

"Actually, Arlene, despite the fact that I'm unmarried and don't have kids, life is pretty good. I figure there's still plenty of time for a family. Of course I won't be able to be a young grandmother like you will, but I'll just have to come to terms with that.

Her pitying smile was now a stiff one, and venom flashed behind her eyes. At that moment, Rene jogged up to Arlene, his gut bouncing with every step. He thumped his chest then let out a belch that reverberated across the stands and winced.

"Hoooey. This heartburn's killin' me. Arlene, you got any Tums in your bag?"

I took that moment to excuse myself and return to Crystal and Portia, figuring that Arlene and I had reached the end of our conversational road. I wasn't particularly proud of myself, but I was riding high on a big wave of Schadenfreude and it was pretty pleasing. If she hadn't been so awful to me in high school and beyond I wouldn't have delighted so much in our little exchange.

I was much more relaxed in the second half, and really enjoyed the chance to visit with the others in the stands. Unlike Arlene, they had matured since high school, and it was great to know what they were doing with their lives. Sharing a little bit about my experiences with them also made me feel proud of what I'd been able to accomplish since leaving Bon Temps.

When the game was over I introduced Eric to a few of my old acquaintances on the way back to the car. Jason was waiting with Crystal in the parking lot and slapped Eric on the back when he reached him.

"Thanks for coming out today. You're all right." They shook hands then Jason turned to give me a hug.

"Good to see you, sis."

"You too, Jason. I love you."

"Love you too, Sook. Hey Eric, you take care of her."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and just shook my head with a smile.

"I plan to."

I swallowed hard at Eric's words. Again, I shouldn't put too much stock in this exchange with my brother, but I couldn't help hope from taking further root in my heart.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Finally...a new chapter! I have a excellent list of quite valid excuses for being such a slow writer, but you don't really want to hear them now, do you?**_

_**Eternal thanks to Miss Construed for reading through and catching my many mistakes. Any mistakes left are certainly my own. You're reading her fantastic**_  
_**surfer fic "Can't Stop The Waves" that posts each Thursday aren't you? It will make Thursday your favorite day of the week!**_

_**Also, the Saint Eric Contest is open and ready for your entries. Put together a tongue in cheek entry about how Eric's a saint and Sookie's a she-devil.**_

_**As always, thank you for reading this story! **_

_**xo, Pfloogs**_

* * *

I'd been pouring over the details for the evening's event when a meek knock on the door broke my concentration. Lucy stood at the door to my office wearing an apologetic expression for disturbing me. "Sorry, Sookie. Lafayette's on the phone about tomorrow night. He said it's important."

"Of course. Thanks, Lucy."

After the slow pace of summer, this busy week was a shock to the system. Eric and I had returned from Louisiana on Sunday night, and our department had two big events this week. Tonight was the cocktail reception hosted by Michael Skouras' company in the Greek and Roman Court, and tomorrow night was the inaugural Young Friends Benefit.

Lafayette had done an excellent job working within our meager budget to come up with sexy décor for the Temple of Dendur. He was creating a colonial desert oasis of sorts to breathe life into the theme of "Glamour on the Nile".

"Sook, we've got a little problem."

I pulled my attention away from the document on the computer screen and absentmindedly rapped the end of my pen on the notepad before me. "Oh?"

"The date palms we've ordered are infested with weevils."

I only paused momentarily. "Laf, the _last_ thing either of us want is to be responsible for bringing an infestation of bugs into the museum." A shudder ran down my spine at the nightmarish thought of the weevils making a meal of a Caravaggio.

"You're telling me! I'm looking to see if other palms are available anywhere in the tri-state area, and also checking out prop houses for good artificial trees."

I didn't know what else he possibly could do beyond that. "I trust you'll come up with a solution. Just know it's better to have nothing than those buggy palms. How's everything else?"

"Perfection."

A hiss of laughter escaped my lips. He was such a piece of work.

"Is Mr. Greek, Roman and Gorgeous all over coming?"

I hissed again and tried to dismiss him. "Lafayette."

"Well, is he?"

His continued interrogation pushed an exasperated sigh from my lungs. "I think so."

"Humph. Think so, my ass. If I were you I'd _know _his coordinates at all times." I didn't doubt him in the least.

"Do you suggest I implant a microchip in his arm while he's sleeping so I can track him?"

"Couldn't hurt."

At that I laughed. "You're a wackadoo."

"Love you too, Sook. See you tomorrow."

Before I could get out another word, I was met with the hum of a dial tone. With a smile I shook my head and hung up the phone. I hadn't seen much of Lafayette over the last month and I'd missed him. It would be good to reconnect tomorrow night.

The last two hours of the workday melted quickly away in a flurry of phone calls and last minute preparations for both events. My department was nearly ready to walk out the door of the office to head down for the Greek and Roman Court when an unexpected knock yielded Christos.

The surprise visit made a nervous flutter hit my stomach. Department chairs rarely 'popped in' for a social call. "Hello, Christos. We were just on our way down to the Court."

"I'm glad I caught you here then."

I gathered my slim leather folio of event details and turned my entire attention to Christos.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no. On the contrary, we have word that Skouras is considering making another leadership gift to the museum. But that does make the success of this evening even more imperative to our department."

I smiled and projected as much confidence as I could gather. This was not the first time I'd seen a nervous "client" right before an event.

"The event will go off without a hitch, Christos. We'll make sure Mr. Skouras is happy this evening," I said as we filed onto the elevator and the doors dinged shut.

"I'm sure you will, Sookie."

I kept my eyes on the illuminated numbers that tracked our progress downstairs. When the doors opened, Christos darted off the elevator and across the Great Hall in the direction of the Greek and Roman offices.

"Well, you heard it for yourselves, ladies. We've got to take extra care with Michael Skouras tonight. Make sure his drink is always filled. One of us should always be within range in case he wants something - the lights lowered, the music louder, a table moved. Whatever it is, make it happen. I'll talk to the caterer about placing one of their best servers on him for the evening." I knew from the wide-eyed nods of both Holly and Halleigh that they were taking Christos's directive as seriously as I.

We'd met to go through our marching orders earlier in the afternoon, so as soon as we reached the Greek and Roman Court, we set about our respective tasks. I'd been working with Dawn from Skouras Partners in the weeks leading up to the event to make all the arrangements. I had yet to actually meet Dawn, and I was curious to place a face with the smoky voice and quick wit I'd gotten to know over the phone. Dawn could speak for the famously difficult Michael Skouras who not only carried a reputation as a demanding person, but was also a notorious womanizer.

I could tell from a cursory glance of the court that the space was set-up as I'd requested. The caterer had already set the bars and cocktail tables in place and had begun dressing them in pale green cloths. I grinned to myself, imagining what Sophie-Anne would think of the green linens. To each his own.

Dawn's preferred florist, a woman I'd never worked with before, was wheeling arrangements past the columns on a tiered metal cart. I craned my neck to see if somebody from the Greek and Roman department was around to keep an eye on the set up, especially since Dawn wanted to use vendors who didn't usually work in the space. My eyes soon fell on the amused face of Eric who was watching me check on the set up. He was leaning casually against a massive marble column near the electricians who were running lines for the A/V set-up.

"Nice of you to show up, Stackhouse." Eric was clearly running with the façade that we were nothing more than colleagues – contentious colleagues. One of the electricians snickered. Humph. I'd play Eric's game, which I suppose was actually my game since I'm the one who wanted to keep our relationship under wraps.

"Well, I can see you've been pretty busy holding up that column in my absence." I clutched my folio primly in my arm and smiled. I was going to get him later for this.

He shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Somebody's got to do it." The blue spark of his eye made my stomach lurch.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Vinnie the electrician interrupted the beginnings of our ping-pong match. "Are you two still sniffing around each other? Will you just hook up already?"

I could feel a deep heat rising from my cheeks and across my chest. I tried to think of a witty comeback to either Vinnie or Eric, but I was so taken aback I could do nothing more than emit a weak laugh and mumble something about checking with the caterer. Even in my hasty retreat to the catering kitchen, it was impossible to miss the smirk on Eric's face.

Later, after reconfirming the schedule with the caterer and regaining some semblance of composure, I took a deep breath and returned to the Court. By then, the electricians had mercifully finished the set-up and had disappeared. I was making my way across the room toward Eric when the whiskey voice I knew from the phone caught my attention.

"I'm looking for Sookie Stackhouse," the woman announced to a security guard. The uniformed guard motioned wordlessly in my general direction, and I waved to the woman in greeting.

"Hello, Dawn. Sookie Stackhouse. Nice to finally meet you in person." I extended my arm and met her firm handshake.

She was a sultry brunette with long glossy hair and legs to match, but a no nonsense demeanor that would surely shut down the many unwanted advances that she received. In my peripheral vision I could see that Eric was watching the two of us talk and I felt an irrational stab of jealousy. I brushed it away and walked her through the set-up, doing my best to keep her out of range of Eric.

"Who's that?" she eventually asked, cocking her head in Eric's direction. Of course she had noticed Eric. What red-blooded woman wouldn't notice him?

I took a deep breath and steered her toward Eric. No use putting off the inevitable. Once I'd gotten through the niceties of the introductions though, I realized how truly ridiculous I had been. Eric shook her hand and asked a couple of polite questions about the evening, but then gave me a look of unmistakable warmth that quickened my pulse and set me at ease. I could tell he only had eyes for me, even in the company of a bombshell.

An authoritative step rang through the hall, and Eric and Dawn seemed to stiffen at whomever was approaching. Over my shoulder I instantly recognized Michael Skouras from his photo in the museum's Trustee Directory. He was a "handsome man" with skin a bit too tan and teeth a bit too white for my taste. His jet-black hair was slicked back; everything about his appearance from his monogrammed shirt cuffs to his gleaming shoes spoke to his meticulous nature.

"Good evening, Dawn. Eric." He shook hands with both before laying eyes on my. "And who is this charming creature?"

I felt like I suddenly had a spotlight trained on me, and I was instantly on guard. Dawn introduced me and I gave a stiff smile. In one slick movement, Skouras had my hand in his manicured paw, and pressed it to his lips.

"I thank you for ensuring this important evening goes smoothly, Ms. Stackhouse."

"It's our pleasure. Please let any of us in the Special Events Department know if you need anything tonight."

Michael eyes roamed across my body for a couple of unbearable seconds, and then found their way back to my face. "Oh, I will." He winked and made his way across the room to Christos who had just arrived.

I glanced up to the grim set of Eric's face, and then forced a smile for Dawn.

"He's delightful, isn't he?" Dawn rasped, her voice thick with sarcasm.

I raised an eyebrow in conspiratorial agreement without saying a word. Dawn had to deal with the man every day; I should be able to handle one evening.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a couple of questions for Michael before guests arrive." Dawn took off in pursuit of Michael, leaving me alone with Eric.

"Do you work with him much?" I asked.

"More than I'd like. The man is a slime ball, but unfortunately he's important to our department. He gives us significant funds and has strong ties to the Greek community in New York City."

I nodded my understanding, shuddering at the recent memory of his eyes raking over me and unconsciously grasped at my necklace. The tension in Eric's face relaxed and a smile passed his lips. I couldn't understand the sudden change in his demeanor.

"What?" I asked, confused. His smile was contagious and I felt the corner of my mouth curve up to mirror his.

"That necklace." He eyed the pearls encircling my neck with more than a passing interest.

I looked down at the strand between my fingers and remembered the night of Eric's birthday. Heat rose in my cheeks again. He leaned into me until he was only inches from my ear.

"It makes me think of all the things I can't do right now." His low voice sent a shiver down my spine.

At that moment, Christos called to Eric to join him and Michael to presumably discuss some important department business. With a light squeeze to my forearm, he was gone.

After a moment the Eric-induced fog lifted from my brain, and I searched out Halleigh and Holly to prepare to open the doors to arriving guests.

Before long the reception was in full swing. I watched Eric from a distance mingling with various trustees who were friends of Skouras or deeply involved with the Greek and Roman Department. It was a professional side of Eric that I hadn't seen before, and with a swell of pride I watched how nimbly and intelligently he maneuvered the crowd. He was a huge asset to the museum. I chewed on my lip. He would be a huge asset to any museum.

I jumped at the sensation of a hand on the small of my back, confused by the intimacy of the touch in a work environment, especially when Eric was across the room. To my great displeasure, I found Michael Skouras by my side at an uncomfortably close distance. Over his shoulder I could see Christos watching our exchange carefully. The chairman gave me a significant look.

"Hello, Mr. Skouras." I took half a step away before continuing. "Is there anything you need?" I think I actually prayed that something was wrong, that he'd come over to ask that I attend to some event detail.

"Everything is perfect. And Sookie, call me Michael."

I swallowed hard, uncomfortable by his unwanted proximity and forced familiarity. "Very well. Michael." Perhaps I was just being overly sensitive. Then I felt a finger running down my arm and my heart sank.

"If you'll excuse me, Michael, I need to check on the caterer." Turning on my heel, I fled to the kitchen for a second time that day. I glanced at Eric on my way. He was still engaged in conversation with an older gentleman, but I could see the tendons in his jaw clench and unclench. He must have witnessed my run-in with Michael.

Dawn followed me back to the kitchen. "Think I could get a bite of the tuna tartar back here?" she rasped. "I keep missing it when the servers come by."

"Oh sure. They'll fix you a little plate of any hors d'oeuvre you'd like."

Dawn smiled warmly. "You'll have some with me, won't you? I'd hate to pig out by myself."

"I certainly can't let you eat alone," I grinned back, thrilled to take a mini-break.

Just as I was knocking back a crab cake, Dawn mentioned Michael. "I saw him come up to you."

I wasn't quite sure what to say. He was her boss after all, and important to the museum. Rather than say the wrong thing, I carefully chewed the crab cake much longer than was necessary, hoping she would speak further. She didn't.

I finally asked, "Any suggestions as to how to best handle the situation?"

"Interested or not interested?"

With all the willpower I could summon, I managed to keep a straight face at her query. I supposed she did run across women who would be only too happy to have the attention of the wealthy shipping magnate.

"Not interested. I have a boyfriend." For whatever reason I felt I needed to give her an explanation.

She nodded. "My advice is just be straightforward and nip it in the bud. But then again, I'm a straightforward person."

Unlike Dawn, I assiduously avoided confrontation, especially in a potentially sensitive work situation such as this. I decided I'd shoot for avoidance if at all possible.

"Thanks. Well, I'd better get back out and make a round of the event to check on things." And do my best to avoid Michael I added mentally.

I walked a couple of laps around the perimeter of the party, monitoring the event and discreetly keeping tabs on Michael to avoid another encounter. Eric continued to work the thinning crowd.

I met up with Holly and Halleigh in a far corner of the court near one of the large columns. As we discussed event wrap up, their eyes widened at what I realized too late was the approach of Michael Skouras behind me. Deferentially and politely they excused themselves, clearly not noticing the plea in my eyes to stay, and I was left horribly alone with the man I'd tried so hard to avoid for the majority of the evening.

"Have you been avoiding me, Sookie?" His suave smile gave me the creeps and he took a step closer to me. I tried to take a step back, but the massive marble column prevented me from doing so.

I laughed nervously and shook my head. "No, of course not. I've been busy."

"Well then, I'm glad I caught you now that you're not busy."

My brain fought for something smooth to say, for something to help me wiggle out of this situation, but I was freezing up. I glanced over to the dying party and again saw Christos watching us, and to my dismay, Eric walking away. All I wanted to do was chase after him, but I needed to shut this situation down gracefully. I remembered Dawn's advice and steeled myself to turn him down firmly and as non-offensively as possible.

"I'm sorry if I've given you the wrong impression, Michael, but I'm in a relationship."

An entertained look crossed his face. "Oh? Is it serious?"

"Yes, it is." I answered without hesitation and with a confidence that I didn't always feel.

He reached for my left hand and looked at my bare ring finger. "I beg to differ," he smirked like only somebody could who had gotten his way more often than he should. If he wasn't a museum trustee I would have been tempted to knee him in the nuts like they taught in my eighth grade babysitting workshop. To hell with non-confrontation.

A familiar voice rang out from behind me. "There you are, Sookie. I've been looking all over for you."

I'd never been so happy to hear Sam's chipper voice.

"Good evening, Mr. Skouras," Sam tipped his chin to Michael in greeting. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we've got a situation and I need to borrow Sookie."

I grabbed the lifeline Sam was offering, said a polite but firm goodbye to Michael, and left with Sam.

"Thank you for saving me from an uncomfortable situation, Sam."

"Any time, my dear. Skouras is pond scum with way too much money. Dreadful combination." He shook his head.

"How did you know I needed help? The cameras?"

"Eric called me. Said you could use some extricating."

"Have you seen him? Where is he?" I wondered why he called Sam rather than get me himself. Then I remembered seeing Christos monitor Michael's every move.

"He's off like a prom dress. Gone, like a fifth of gin."

My stomach dropped. I tried to smile at his words, but it would have taken a Herculean effort to do so convincingly, and I just wasn't up to it. I knew I wasn't fooling Sam. "Gone from the party, or gone from the museum?"

"Elvis has left the building."

"Oh." I could feel my brow furrow despite my best attempt to keep my face neutral.

Sam laid a reassuring hand on my elbow and his voice softened with the sincerity of his next words. "Don't worry dear. Just talk to him."

I nodded and gave him a hug of thanks, then called Holly's cell to ask if she wouldn't mind handling the load out without me. After tracking down Dawn to say goodbye, I left the museum and hailed a taxi across the park to the west side.

The taxi swept me through the park, leaving me little time to decide if I should show up at Eric's apartment or just give him a call. Despite my urgent need to see Eric in person, to be reassured that everything was okay - that _we_ were okay - I decided a phone call would be a better option. If Eric left without saying goodbye, he must be in need of some space.

I took the stairs two at a time. Without taking the time to change clothes, I dropped onto my bed and pulled out my phone to call Eric. I felt a little more nervous with every ring. Finally he picked up. The stony silence that greeted me on the phone made my heart pound at a sickening pace. I launched into conversation to kill the awful void on the phone.

"Eric, I'm sorry about tonight. I handled it as best I could."

"No need to apologize. You aren't responsible for Skouras' actions." The steely edge of his voice didn't sound convincing.

Rather than speak, I waited for him to continue. I wasn't quite sure what to say anyway.

"I had to leave because I couldn't stand to watch him paw at you when there's nothing I can do."

"I know."

"You know I trust _you_ implicitly. I just…I don't trust myself."

My brows tugged together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I was afraid if I stayed a minute longer I'd go Viking on Skouras."

The corner of my mouth curved into a smile despite myself. That was a sight I'd like to see.

"We need to figure this out, Sookie. At work, I mean."

I could feel the smile fade from my face when I realized this wasn't really about tonight's incident. I shifted the receiver to the other ear and released a breath as imperceptibly as I could.

"I know. I'm sorry I've been so weird and uptight about going public at work."

"I understand and respect your reasons, but however we handle this needs to work for me too."

I chewed my lip, knowing he was right. "What's going to work for you?"

"I obviously don't think we should make out in the Great Hall, but I also don't want to be secretive about it. We can be matter of fact about our relationship without it impacting either of us negatively."

"I hear what you're saying, let me just think about it a little bit. I'm going to be pretty busy tomorrow, but maybe can sneak away for lunch?"

"I'm taking a 7:20 train for Philly tomorrow morning."

My head sank back on the pillow and my eyes slid shut. I had absent-mindedly forgotten about the trip in the midst of this busy week. Every visit to Philadelphia felt like a threat; every time he went, I feared he was going to come back and announce he had been offered the job.

"Oh, of course." I paused for a second then asked, "Will I see you tomorrow night? At the benefit?"

After an uncomfortable pause, Eric spoke. "I don't think so, Sookie."

My stomach dropped and I curled into a ball on my side, waiting for him to speak further.

"Tomorrow I present my recommendations to the Philadelphia Museum's board of trustees. I'm sure it will be a long day."

"No, I understand." My tone was cold, which was not my intent, but I was bitterly disappointed.

"Even if I did make it back, it might be better if I didn't go. Not until we've worked this out."

A long moment hung silent on the phone line.

"Okay." My voice sounded small.

"Good luck with everything tomorrow night. I'm sure it will be great."

My enthusiasm for the event had evaporated in a matter of seconds.

"Thanks. Good luck to you too. I hope the trustees like your recommendations." I couldn't say that was a one hundred percent truthful statement, but I didn't know what else to say.

I'll call you tomorrow night, Sookie."

"Okay. Talk to you then. Goodnight."

I didn't move to change my clothes, take out my contacts or even brush my teeth. I stared at the wall for nearly an hour, deliberating over what I should do. At six in the morning I awoke fully clothed with my contacts glued to my eyeballs. I had a lousy night of sleep, but at least I did know what I needed to do.


	28. Chapter 28

**_Another week, another update? Yep...that's right! I'm doing my best to wrap this story up within a year of the first post, and well...that just doesn't leave me a bunch of time to dilly dally around. _**

**_As always, thanks to the lovely Miss Construed for reading this through in advance, catching my mistakes and being my sounding board._**

**_The Saint Eric contest hosted by Pepperminty Rose is still accepting submissions, so why don't you put together a tongue-in-cheek story that illustrates what a 'Saint' Eric is?_**

**_If you're reading this, you've slogged through a whole lot of my malarkey...thank you! Your reviews, story alerts and favorites always make my day and keep me writing. :)_**

**_Happy Friday!_**

**_Pfloogs_**

* * *

Satisfaction settled around my shoulders when I took in the crowd that filled every corner of the Temple of Dendur. The special events team had pulled off a huge success, and I was proud of our staff. There had been quite a buzz about the Young Friends Benefit in the past few weeks, and judging by the diverse group of young bold-faced names it had attracted and the press who had showed up to photographer them, it would make an even bigger splash post-event.

A rough hand slid through the crook of my arm. I turned to Lafayette and smiled.

"It really looks phenomenal. If I had a dollar for every time I'd heard the word "transporting" tonight, I'd be a wealthy woman."

A smug grin crossed his face and he surveyed the environment he had created. Custom made cushions in deep jewel tones converted the wall that ringed the "Nile" into chic lounge seating paired with low cocktail tables adorned with punched tin lanterns and carved wood stools. One of the hottest DJ's in the city was perched on the platform in front of the temple. She spun music with a thrumming undercurrent that pulsed through the room, bringing to mind the exotic sound of drums in a desert night. Quinn's A/V company had washed the ceiling and back wall of the space in a deep midnight blue with an array of stars, and uplit the temple a deep amber. Completing the look were majestic palm trees – bug free - that Lafayette had miraculously managed to procure.

Despite my protests, Lafayette had insisted on burning a little incense before guests had arrived. I had to admit it was the perfect subtle touch that evoked far away lands, yet didn't overpower the senses.

"So here's where the dream team is hiding." I had never seen such a pleased look on Catherine's face. "An excellent job all around. You brought the audience we desperately need into the museum for a hip event that reflects the quality of everything we do. Thank you both."

Lafayette discreetly kicked me at the word "hip", which from Catherine's lips sounded tragically unhip. I nudged him back with my elbow then ignored him. Praise from Catherine was hard won, and I didn't want him to ruin the moment.

"You're welcome. I'm glad we have such an enthusiastic turnout too. The event certainly attracted a lot of press. Andre must be pleased." Earlier I had caught a glimpse of Andre managing traffic in front of the press line. We had managed to communicate about the event entirely over email. Since Eric reached "an understanding" with him months ago, Andre had avoided me like the plague.

"Oh yes, he's happy as a clam." At that moment a young department store heiress passed by. Catherine smiled at both of us. "If you'll excuse me, I see somebody I was hoping to chat with this evening."

We waved goodbye and watched her pursue her quarry through the crowd. Lafayette turned to me with a mischievous grin.

"So? Where's lover boy?"

I groaned internally at his question. I had been trying my best to keep Eric off my mind today and it hadn't been easy. Especially since I hadn't heard a peep from him. Of course I could have called him, but I was swamped with details for the event. Plus, it was an important day for him too and I didn't want to bother him.

"He's not coming."

"Say what?" Lafayette's face screwed up into comic disbelief. He looked me up and down. "Why's he missing your big night? And you lookin' all hot too."

"He was in Philadelphia today for a meeting," I shrugged in explanation and smoothed down the fabric of my dress. "Hey, I'll catch up with you in a bit, I've gotta go check on some things." I turned to go, but Lafayette clamped down on my forearm. Startled, I looked up into Lafayette's disapproving eyes.

"Don't you pull that act on me, missy. You can't bullshit a bullshitter."

"But, the caterer…" I began to protest, but Lafayette cut me off.

"The caterer is fine. The DJ is fine. The lighting and sound are fine. The security guards are fine. I think _you're _the one who's not fine."

"Lafayette." I used a stern tone in an attempt to be convincing. "I'm fine."

"So what's with the avoidance? Everything okay in Loverville?"

I laughed and gave a shake of my head. "Everything is _fine_, Lafayette." I didn't really want to talk about this. Not here. Not with Lafayette. Not with anybody.

Lafayette arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "But he's not here on a night that's important to you."

"Are you trying to make me feel shittier about it?" I snapped. I could feel the calm I had tried so hard to amass during the day start to crumble and the back of my throat ached. I needed to keep it together until I could get home and talk to Eric.

"Of course not. Sorry, Sook." Lafayette swiped a couple of champagne flutes from the tray of a passing waiter and handed me one. I knew he wanted to ask me more, but didn't dare. We clinked glasses and turned back to watch the crowd.

"You see that crazy bitch wearing a dress made out of trash bags?"

"What?" I asked disbelieving him.

He tipped his flute of champagne to the near corner of the platform, and my eyes immediately found a woman with spiky platinum blonde hair clad in an elaborately designed plastic dress. I snorted despite the snit I had worked myself into and my mind was successfully diverted.

"People will do anything for attention, eh?"

Lafayette and I turned in the direction of the Irish accented voice that floated over our shoulders. It was Patrick McCoy, one of the foremost event photographers in Manhattan and an all around nice guy.

I laughed and gave Patrick a hug. "I suppose so. It sure doesn't look very comfortable."

"Oh no. Not comfortable at all. But she _will _make it onto my blog tomorrow."

I nodded my head in amused understanding. "Well, there you have it. I suppose it's a small price to pay to be featured on your blog." Patrick's blog chronicled the New York City social scene. People all over the city read it on a daily basis to see who went to what party the night before. Claudine had hooked me on it years ago.

Patrick looked back out to the mass of partygoers on the platform. "Good crowd tonight. Real good crowd." Coming from Patrick, that was a high compliment. Without a good crowd, a party was just lights, booze and food. You could find that at a restaurant.

Lafayette's elbow dug into me again. "What?"" I asked in indignation. Lafayette motioned behind me. My heart kicked into a higher rhythm at the sight of Eric making his way through the crowd. I gave Lafayette a little smile and he winked back.

"If you two will excuse me, I'll be right back."

I was a mess of nerves as I threaded through the crowd to Eric, furiously trying to recall the lines I had rehearsed earlier today. Unable to remember any of them, I simply took a deep breath and gave Eric a strained smile when I finally reached him.

"You came."

He shrugged and gave me half a smile. "It's your big event. I couldn't really miss it."

My mouth ran dry. I had envisioned talking to him in private, but I took a deep breath and made up a plan b on the fly. I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, forcing myself to not check first to see if anybody was around.

"Thanks for being here."

He glanced down at his hand in mine, and then looked back to me with an eyebrow raised in amusement. "Wow. That's a pretty bold move."

"Sookie, can I get your picture?" This time I recognized Patrick's voice without turning around.

"Okay with you?" I asked Eric.

He laughed. "And getting bolder all the time."

I turned to face Patrick while still grasping Eric's hand, and smiled while he fired off a few shots. When the flashing subsided, I saw Holly and Halleigh out of the corner of my eye gawking at us with wide eyes. Holly instantly had her phone out, most likely sending a text to one of her friends in the museum. It didn't take much to let the cat out of the bag.

"Thanks you two." Patrick replaced the lens cap and tucked the camera back in a big black case. I dropped Eric's hand to officially introduce them.

"Patrick, this is Eric Northman, curator of Greek and Roman Art here at the Met. Aside from being one of the best event photographers in the city, Patrick runs the Morning After blog."

Eric laughed almost imperceptibly to himself, then he shook Patrick's hand.

"I'm off to download these photos and prepare tomorrow's blog entry. I'll catch up with you at the next one of these." Patrick kissed me on both cheeks, waved goodbye to Eric, and left us.

"So, the Morning After blog, huh?"

I shrugged a little sheepishly. "That was just….serendipitous? I guess it's easier to let a photo speak for itself for once."

He ran his hand through his hair and smirked. "You're just full of surprises tonight."

We began to move through the crowd to the platform.

"I wasn't expecting you to come tonight. It's not as though I planned that photo op."

He crouched a bit as he walked so I could hear him over the music. "Hmm. I hope you don't regret your impulsive decision."

"I won't regret the decision to go public about you and me. And it wasn't impulsive. I've given it a lot of thought, and reached the conclusion that," I hesitated for a moment, "you were right about this."

"What's that?" He nudged me with his elbow. "I'm right?"

I rolled my eyes and continued walking. "You were right that the time has come to be open about it. But that doesn't make me wrong."

"Of course not." I chose to ignore the mockingly serious expression on his face.

As we drew closer to the platform, the DJ caught my eye. I told Eric I would catch up with him later, and then hurried off to check on her and the rest of the vendors that I had been neglecting. After making the rounds, I headed into the kitchen to chat with the caterer as Holly and Halleigh were coming out.

Holly dove into conversation. "They said they would stop passing desserts in ten minutes and close the bars in twenty if that timing still works for you?" I smiled at her for being on top of the event. She had really stepped up these last few months and grown in her position.

I glanced at the crowd and looked down at my watch. "That should be perfect, thanks for checking in with them."

"No problem," Holly beamed. She glanced quickly at Halleigh then turned back to me. "So, you and Eric are an item?"

This was a moment I had been anticipating, and not without some dread. I figured ripping a band-aid off rather than slowly peeling it back was the best solution.

"Yes, we're dating," I said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Holly and Halleigh both grinned and ventured a quick glance at each other again. Halleigh's face suddenly changed; her eyes widened with revelation and then narrowed. "Wait. Are you going to Paris with him?"

"Um…yes. I am."

It took all I had to restrain my eye roll at the collective sigh that issued from the pair. Enough mooning over Eric, we had a job to do.

"So, back to business. If you'll please let the electricians and the security managers know we'll be starting to clear the space in about twenty minutes, I'll talk to A/V and the DJ. Let's meet back in front of the Temple in twenty."

Once I had completed my tasks, I found Eric with a large group of Met employees near the bar. Catherine had extended invitations to employees under forty to attend at a reduced ticket price, and they had snapped up the tickets. I chatted with a few people that I had worked with before and edged my way over to Eric, Bill and Gary. Eric placed a hand lightly on the small of my back, a gesture that I knew did not go unnoticed based on the nudging and whispering I witnessed amongst my colleagues in my peripheral vision.

"Can I borrow you for a second?" I asked Eric, and stepped with him out of earshot.

Eric spoke before I had the chance. "Will you come over tonight?"

Things between us felt comfortable again, but between the stress of these two events and especially the Michael Skouras drama, I needed some time with him. Plus, I wanted to find out how everything went in Philly, and this event was not the place. I nodded.

"But not until a bit later. I've got to wrap things up here. I should be done in an hour or so."

"Just call when you get there and I'll buzz you in."

I squeezed his hand goodbye and dove back into the crowd.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

An hour and a half later I was riding the elevator up to the seventh floor of Eric's building. When the doors slid open, I was met by the sight of Eric leaning against the wall facing the elevator. He pushed off the wall and reached me in one casual stride, settled his hands on the curve of my hips and pulled me against him.

His lips brushed against mine, then deepened into a kiss that left no doubt that we were okay. When the kiss broke, I sank into his chest, relief washing over me. With that relief came the realization that I was in this deep. I didn't want to think about the implications of that now, and brushed the thought aside.

"I'm glad you didn't change yet." Eric's eyes ran down the length of my body, still encased in the dark teal dress that I had purchased especially for this evening. His finger slipped under the silk strap that ran over my shoulder.

"Oh really?" I laughed. If I hadn't been so anxious to see Eric I would have taken three minutes to change back into my "civilian" clothes before leaving my office.

"Really." He gently pushed a few errant blonde locks over my shoulder and traced a fingertip across the pulse point of my neck. "For one, I neglected to tell you how stunning you look earlier tonight. That's a serious infraction on my part."

I stood stock-still. My breathing picked up and all of my attention was soon focused on the sensation of his fingertips, and then lips on my neck.

"Plus, half the fun of admiring you in the dress is the anticipation of getting you out of it," he mumbled into the sensitive skin of my neck and my pulse quickened.

I grasped the sides of his face to drag him to my mouth for a kiss, and did my best to give him a slight push in the direction of his apartment.

"Anxious, are we?" I could feel Eric's grin against my lips.

I answered him with another push and found no resistance.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Fingers running across the most sensitive skin of my stomach awoke me the next morning. Forcing an eye open, I turned my head to see Eric surveying my grogginess with a crooked smile. I groaned and rolled away from him, burying my head in the pillow. Undaunted, Eric spooned up behind me and cruelly tore away the pillow. I protested by curling into a tight ball.

"You are a stubborn, stubborn woman."

I smiled wryly to myself, feeling more awake with each passing second.

My voice was rough from sleep. "I am stubborn. Always have been." There was no use in pretending I was anything other than what I was.

"I'd imagine so. Sometimes it drives me to the brink."

I toyed with the edge of the blanket. "Well, I'm afraid that stubborn streak is here to stay."

I could feel a rumble of laughter in Eric's chest.

"Then it's a good thing that it's also something I love about you."

I bit my lip and tried to control my breathing. Once I had a grip I turned over to face him and pulled the sheet up around me.

"Lucky for me you're willing to embrace my little foibles." I fixed a playful smile on my face, but I was absolutely sincere. We all have our flaws. Finding somebody who can handle yours and vice versa is never something to take for granted.

Eric kissed my forehead and pulled me against his chest. I nearly dozed off, but snapped to an alert state when I remembered I had yet to ask him about yesterday's meeting.

"How was Philly? I meant to ask you last night but we were, uh, rather occupied."

"The Philadelphia Museum of Art now has a Department of Greek and Roman Art."

I was a jumble of conflicting emotions, but the important thing was the trustees had voted in favor of Eric's recommendations, and that was a big deal. Snaking my arms around his neck I kissed him.

"Congratulations on getting that passed."

Eric gave a nonchalant shrug. "They have a department on paper, but they technically have no collection, no chair and no curatorial staff. Who knows what they'll do next?"

"Will you continue consulting?"

He shook his head. "Now that the decision has been made, my contract is complete."

"When will they name a Department Chair?" I wasn't sure that I even wanted to know the answer.

"They haven't mentioned a timeline, so who knows? It could be some time."

I could feel my stress diminish somewhat at the news. Eric slowly ran his hand up and down my spine, relaxing me further, then changed the subject.

"Are you packed for the trip?"

"Pfft. Are you kidding me?" I'd had two events this week. Of course I hadn't packed yet.

"You'll be ready to leave from work tomorrow though, right?"

"Piece of cake."

I had learned last weekend that Eric was a little rigid about getting to the airport in plenty of time before a flight.

"Because Friday afternoon traffic is probably going to…."

I silenced him in an instant with a surefire distraction.


	29. Chapter 29

**_Well, we're off to Paris!_**  
**_Thanks for reading - I especially love hearing your thoughts._**  
**_A big, big thanks to pre-reader extraordinaire, Miss Construed. _**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_Pfloogs_**

* * *

My phone was ringing when I unlocked the door to my office the next morning. I dove across the front of my desk to pick it up before it went to voicemail, spilling the contents of my pencil holder in the process.

"Good morning," chirped the perky voice I'd know anywhere.

"Hello, Claudine," I lilted back in a singsong voice. I should have known she would call me first thing this morning.

"Congratulations on the big party last night. Sounds like it was quite the bash."

I carefully lifted the spiral cord so I could sit at my desk without knocking anything else over. "Thank goodness it was a success – I would have been toast around here if not."

She hissed. "Don't be so dramatic. Of course you wouldn't have been toast."

"Well, maybe not toast, but a lot was riding on that party." I turned on the computer and waited for it to boot up.

"Hmmmm. Well, it also seems that things are progressing nicely with Eric."

"I take it you've already seen The Morning After?"

"Mmm-hmm." I could hear the faint click of her mouse faint over the line. "You and Eric are prominently featured. Right next to a photo of a woman wearing what appears to be a Hefty bag. Did she lose a bet or something?"

A burst of laughter escaped my mouth. I pulled the site up on my computer, and craned forward to scrutinize the photo. It was subtle, but there would be no question to anybody who saw it that we were together. I zoomed in on our faces and smiled. We both looked happy.

"So? Things with Eric?"

"We're good. Working through some obstacles, but good."

"Oh, it makes me so happy to hear that. Just remember that no relationship is without its obstacles. I'd be worried if you _didn't_ have any."

"Humph." I suppose that made sense.

"What about that job in Philadelphia?"

I paused for a moment. "It's still out there."

"What does Eric say?"

"Uh, we haven't really talked about it."

"I know I said to not worry about it a few weeks ago, but now might be the time to face this head on."

My cheeks puffed out with my released breath. "Yep. I know."

"You'll have plenty of opportunity when you're in Paris to bring it up."

I groaned.

"You'll figure it out. Have a great time and call me when you're back."

"I will. Say hi to Jonathan and everybody in the office."

I downloaded the photo of Eric and me and sent it to my blackberry, then started in on the day's business.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The next two days zoomed past. I was quite busy between wrapping things up from the two events of the week and preparing to be out of the office for a few days. If there was gossip floating around about me and Eric, I was blessedly unaware.

Two ladies I didn't know from the legal department gave me the thumbs up in the cafeteria, and Holly tried her unsubtle best to get me to tell her more about my relationship with Eric, but these were things I could easily manage. Frankly, I was more worried about what to pack for the trip.

We left the museum a little early on the day of our flight, and to Eric's great relief, got to the airport in plenty of time. The flight was uneventful, and aside from being a little bleary eyed upon arrival at Charles de Gaulle, we were ready to dive into the city.

A taxi sped us into the city. I watched intently out the window, recognizing from previous visits the progression of the landscape, from humble structures that steadily gave way to elegant buildings with ornate iron scrollwork lining the urbane streets that led us to the heart of the Paris. Our charming hotel was tucked away in a quiet section of St-Germaine-des-Prés on a cobblestone street only a couple of blocks from the Seine. The location was just a hop, skip and a jump from the Louvre where the majority of Eric's meetings would be, but on the Left Bank, which I preferred.

Eric had managed to book one of the few suites in the hotel. A suite had seemed over-the-top to me until I saw our room. It was a comfortable and gracious space, but I couldn't imagine Eric's large frame negotiating anything smaller. The cozy bedroom had walls covered in a crisp bright navy and white Provençal fabric, and didn't allow for much floor space beyond the bed that dominated the room. A sitting room off the bedroom provided the extra breathing room we would need.

I eyed the bed longingly thinking how nice a nap would be, especially with Eric by my side, but we had planned to beat the time change by forcing ourselves to stay awake through the day and turning in early after dinner. A quick shower to wash away the travel grime and a fresh outfit perked me up, and within half an hour we were off to a nearby café for lunch.

"Anywhere in particular you want to go this afternoon?" Eric asked over his croque-monsieur.

I shook my head. "I wouldn't mind just walking around. Maybe heading over to the Luxembourg Gardens unless there was something else you had in mind?" I reached across the table to swipe a couple of the perfectly golden, salty fries from his plate. My salad was delicious, but nothing could beat fries. "Oh, and pain au chocolate needs to somehow be involved."

"Sounds like a good non-plan."

"Then I was thinking I'd go to the Musée Picasso tomorrow morning while you're in meetings and meet you back at the hotel around noon. We could head out from there." I reached for another fry.

He watched me pilfer his fries with amusement. "I'll definitely be done for the day by then."

As excited as I was to see Paris again, I was enjoying the leisurely pace of lunch and the absence of an agenda. I'd been to Paris several times before, but always by myself for a couple of days here and there. My previous visits had involved a tight schedule and a checklist of places I needed to visit. In retrospect, those trips seemed more like a forced march than a relaxing holiday.

I was stuffed after my salad and most of Eric's fries, but after a few hours walking around, was ravenous and exhausted. We scrapped our dinner plans at an Île de la Cité restaurant, and opted for a neighborhood bistro.

An order of duck confit and two glasses of excellent Cabernet later, and Eric practically had to scrape me off my chair and drag me back to the hotel. I fell soundly asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, and slept solidly through the night until the travel alarm sounded the next morning.

We showered and dressed for the day, then headed down to the barrel vaulted breakfast room for the best café au lait and yogurt I had tasted in ages, before venturing our separate ways for the morning.

I was so happy to be back in Paris. It was a different world from New York City. Everything seemed to be orderly, polished, and elegant. In comparison to the sometimes raw and gritty city that was my beloved home, Paris seemed incredibly civilized. I soaked it in on the way to my destination.

I had visited the Musée Picasso before, and it never failed to suck me in. The special Picasso exhibits I had seen at various museums always paled in comparison to what I walked away with after a few hours here. For me, it wasn't seeing his masterpieces that struck me. Rather it was the extraordinary experience of witnessing his body of work over a lifetime.

The collection was a massive assemblage of sketches, cardboard models, seemingly insignificant doodles, and of course the sculptures and paintings that the world knows.

Behind the familiar masterpieces lay years of thought, experimentation, failures, and breakthroughs, that had ultimately led to the execution of his most renowned pieces of art. It was impossible to fully appreciate the masterpieces without the evidence of the years-long process behind each.

The visit left me contemplative, and reflecting on more than art.

By the time I returned to the hotel, Eric was already back from his meeting, sprawled out on the sofa and absorbed in a magazine. I bent over to give him a kiss, and he tugged my arm so I collapsed on top of him.

"Well, hello there," I laughed, sinking into his body.

"How was the museum?" His fingers ran through the waves of my hair idly, while the other hand ran the distance of my spine.

I sighed happily. "So interesting. I loved it." I would tell him about it later, but wanted to first hear about his morning. "What about your meetings?"

"It's always good to speak with my peers." He smiled and I could tell there was something more.

I raised my eyebrows to prompt him.

"A few museum directors were there too, including the director of the Philadelphia Museum of Art."

My stomach knotted a little bit at the news. "Scouting talent, I presume?" I joked, and tried to take comfort in the idea that the meeting was full of possible candidates for the open position in Philadelphia.

He laughed back, "Something like that, I suppose." His smile lessened a bit and I knew that wasn't the end of his news. "The president of the museum is in town too. They want to have dinner with us tonight."

My eyes widened, and I pushed back so I could see Eric's face better. "Us?"

He shrugged. "They know I'm here with you, so they invited me and my significant other."

"Oh." Conflicting emotions collided in my chest and stuck in my throat.

A ripple of concern crossed Eric's face at my reaction. "Is that okay?"

I gingerly extracted myself from the sofa and forced a smile. "Of course. That's so nice of them to include me." I crossed the room to look out the window over the rooftops of the adjacent buildings to buy some time and space for my racing mind.

As much as I would love to perhaps theoretically live in blissful ignorance, there was nothing enjoyable or peaceful about my lack of knowledge on Eric's thoughts regarding the position. The chairmanship in Philadelphia was the 800 pound gorilla in the room, and I wanted it gone.

Of course we needed to discuss it. We probably should have discussed it weeks ago, but any conversation about this job would undoubtedly force issues about us, about our future. I doubted Eric wanted to force this talk either; otherwise he would have spoken about it more freely.

I knew my commitment level to this relationship, and I hoped I knew Eric's, but at this point it was really just supposition. I had no doubt that Eric cared for me, but were his feelings for me significant enough to trump an important career opportunity like this? I was afraid of the answer.

Twice I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped myself before uttering a syllable. I looked out the window and took several deep breaths to calm myself and gather the nerve to ask Eric what I needed to know. I turned away from the window to perch on the tufted arm of the chair facing Eric and screwed up my courage.

"Eric?" I hated how shaky my voice sounded. He looked up from the magazine, tossed it on the side table and sat up to give me his full attention. I bit my lip nervously and continued. "What do you think you'll do if you're offered the position?

Eric ran a hand through his hair a couple of times then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. Tension was evident in the lines across his forehead. After a long, thoughtful moment he spoke.

"When I was offered the curator position at the Met I thought I would be there for the rest of my career. It's where I had always imagined I would want to work; it was the pinnacle. But not just as a curator…the ultimate prize would eventually be the chairmanship." His joined hands bounced, emphasizing each point.

"The work fascinates me…opportunities to research, write, present. The collection is one of the finest…and to be a part of the collective maintaining and preserving the art is a privilege."

He stood and began to pace. It felt almost as though I was hearing his thought process, teasing through the advantages of each option.

"But Philadelphia is an opportunity I'd never conceived. The vast majority of upper echelon art institutions already have established Greek and Roman Departments. For those that don't, they certainly don't have the resources to be creating one. Sure, collections were amassed 50 or 100 years ago, but not today. It's a dream I never had because it just wasn't something within the realm of possibility."

Eric's eyes were alive with excitement. The tenor of his voice changed when he spoke about the Philadelphia job. His passion made me smile and my palms sweat. I knew how this was going to play out and I was trying to keep my breathing steady. I looked him in the eye and nodded my comprehension.

"You want this." It was a simple statement of fact. He'd explained it all, but he just hadn't said the words.

A pained expression crossed his face. "I do."

I turned my head to the side, trying to control the threatening tears that brimmed in my eyes. I wouldn't stand in his way, assuming that I even could. I smiled despite the fact that I couldn't breathe; despite the fact that I could no longer feel my fingers; despite the fact that my chest felt like it was splitting in two.

The struggle to control my physiological responses was taking every ounce of energy I possessed. I continued nodding my head slowly in a bit of a daze. The burn of bile was creeping up the back of my throat.

I wanted to tell him I was proud of him, that I supported his decision. More than anything I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but it felt like that would be a cheap ploy to make him change his mind. I didn't want to change his mind if this was what he wanted. Instead I was mute, wearing a smile that had faded to nearly nothing.

I needed a moment alone to collect myself.

"I'll be right back," I mumbled. Eric grabbed my wrist as I tried to pass.

"Sookie." His voice was hoarse.

I didn't think I was capable of listening to him further without breaking down. I needed to be in a better place mentally so I could support his decision. I stammered a few unintelligible words and tried to pull my arm free but he gripped harder and spun me so I was facing him. Keeping my eyes on the floor, the tears began to crest and my throat ached.

I struggled to tame the contortions of my chest and smooth out my chin which I knew was quivering. He pulled me to him and folded me in his arms. The contact with him made it impossible for me to hold it in any longer. Tears spilled freely and the sob that I'd been fighting so hard to suppress escaped. I remained stiff in the comfort of his arms. I had to in an attempt to keep myself from falling apart further.

"Sookie, look at me." His voice was quiet and strained with emotion. I pursed my lips and forced my eyes to meet his through watery vision. His eyes were rimmed with pink. "It's not the only thing I want."

I pressed my thumb and forefinger into my eyelids, shielding my face from him. I didn't want Eric to see hopefulness in my eyes and pity me if I was misunderstanding his words. Gently, but firmly, he pulled my hand away and tipped my chin up with his other hand. I fixed my vision on a corner of the ceiling.

"Sookie," he pleaded, "_please_ look at me."

After a second I wiped away the tears that were still coming and acquiesced, taking in and releasing an unsteady breath. He fixed his eyes on my mine and gave me a small smile, then his eyes dropped to the floor before coming back to meet mine. Gone from his face was the confidence I was so accustomed to seeing. In its place was an expression that was foreign to me. His fingers interlaced with my left hand and he took a deep breath to speak. I braced myself.

"I….Sookie, I love you. I don't want this to be the end."

My eyes squeezed shut at his words and I buried my head in his chest, enveloping myself in the scent that was uniquely his. Eric's arms encircled me, holding me tightly to his chest. I remained pressed against him, the front of his shirt crumpled up in my fists until my tears were under control.

Still sniffling, I finally looked up at him. "I don't want this to be the end either."

Eric's eyebrows pulled together and he caught a tear that had reached my chin with the crook of his index finger. He searched my eyes and asked in a soft voice, "Would it have to be?"

I chewed on my lip and shook my head. "The last thing I want is to keep you from anything. But I'm rooted in New York, and a long distance relationship..."

He took me by the shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. "First of all, I haven't been offered the position." I solemnly nodded my comprehension. "Secondly - and this is important – you need to know that you _can_ keep me from this."

I shook my head. "I couldn't….I…I wouldn't dream of doing that. You have to pursue this opportunity if it comes your way." I sniffed again and wiped some of the dampness from my cheeks inelegantly with the palm of my hand. "If our positions were reversed I hope you would encourage me to do the same."

He swallowed visibly and looked at the floor, then back at me with an expression that bore a hint of sadness. I grasped both sides of his face.

"Eric," I said a little more forcefully than I'd intended. I met his eyes and gave him a small smile. In a much quieter tone I spoke the words that never were easy to utter for the first time. "I love you. I want to try to make this work."

Eric's face eased into a crooked smile. I was sure I looked a frightful mess, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He bent to reach my lips and I relaxed into the familiar taste of him. The previous tension melted away with each kiss until there was nothing that existed but the two of us.

We progressed unhurriedly to the bedroom, relishing every kiss of affirmation, and slowly undressed each other along the way. Each familiar touch was made new again in the lens of three small words. The streets of Paris would remain unexplored by us that afternoon.


	30. Chapter 30

**_Well, we're almost there. The last chapter has been written and will be posting sometime this week._**

**_A big, big thanks to Miss Construed for reading through and correcting the mistakes I miss regardless of how many times I read through,  
_****_and for making sure this_ ****_makes sense. If it doesn't make sense, it's all me._**

**_Thanks for reading and enjoy the weekend!_**

**_Pfloogs _**

* * *

Eric gave his name to the maître d', explaining we were joining two others.

As they spoke, an impossibly chic Parisienne slinked past the hostess stand of the bustling brasserie and was absorbed by a cloud of dark suits. I watched her progression with fascination, admiration, and a fleeting pang of wistfulness. Sookie Stackhouse from Bon Temps, Louisiana would never a femme fatale make.

The pads of Eric's fingertips slid up my and down my back before settling on the curve of my hip possessively.

"She's got nothing on you." He spoke just loudly enough so I could hear him over the din. I tipped my face up to his and smiled. That afternoon had imbued me with a fresh confidence in our relationship. I didn't know how long it would last, despite the fact that it's what we both wanted. For now, I would try to relax and enjoy the here and now.

After running his finger down the reservation list, the maître d' smiled. "Ah, yes. The rest of your party is already here. Jeannine will show you to your table."

A woman built for efficiency guided us through the sea of diners to a round table in a choice location. The two men seated at the table stood and shook hands with Eric, before turning their attention to me.

"Sookie, this is Henri Gylphé, Director of the Philadelphia Museum of Art."

I shook his hand and smiled. "How do you do?"

"And this is Charles Brewer, President of the Museum."

"Nice to meet you," I smiled and returned his firm handshake.

"This is my girlfriend, Sookie Stackhouse."

I didn't miss the momentary glance that passed between the two men at mention of my name.

"A pleasure to meet you, Sookie." Charles smiled at me kindly, but retained a professional edge. "I presume you are the same Sookie Stackhouse who helms the Special Events Department at the Met?"

I smiled back at him, "Yes, I am."

He seemed on the verge of saying more before remembering we were all still standing. "Pardon me. Please, have a seat." He gestured to a chair. In an instant Eric pulled it out for me, and when I was settled, he took the open chair beside as the two men resumed their previous spots.

Charles spoke again. "Thank you for joining us tonight, Sookie. I'm sorry to take a night away from your vacation, but we are very happy to make your acquaintance."

"It's my pleasure to be here, and it's such a privilege to meet you both." Although I could think of numerous other ways I would rather be spending my evening, it was truly an honor to dine with the two men who ran the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

"I understand from Catherine that you have injected the Met's special events program with new life."

I tried to hide my astonishment that Catherine had spoken about my work to others, and did my best to accept the compliment. "I'm fortunate to have a terrific department and a President who is open to pursuing new ideas."

Henri piped in with his rich, melodic voice, "Humble as well as charming and successful."

I blushed and ventured a quick glance at Eric. He gave me a reassuring smile before turning back to our hosts.

Charles resumed, "Perhaps someday we could convince you to come to our museum and speak with the woman who heads up special events for us. We could benefit from your expertise."

"I always welcome the opportunity to speak with my counterparts at other institutions. Plus, I'd love to learn about the events at your museum, I must admit I'm quite ignorant of much beyond New York City."

"Here's my card," Charles slid it across the crisp linen tablecloth. "Perhaps we could arrange something once you're back in New York."

I fished my card from my purse and laid it on the table too. "I'll look forward to it."

That was the end of business discussions for the evening. We did talk about art and exhibitions that were being mounted by both museums, but the conversation was strictly social. I wasn't quite certain what the purpose of the dinner was, but it was a lovely evening.

As we made our way to the front door to leave, Henri fell in step with Eric.

"Eric, I'm hoping you might have some time after your meetings tomorrow to chat with me for half an hour or so."

Eric glanced at me; I smiled and gave him a little nod. I didn't take his look so much as a request for permission to meet as a sign of courtesy.

"That should be fine," Eric answered.

"Excellent. I'll see you tomorrow."

We all shook hands and said our farewells.

A rain shower during dinner left a cool freshness hanging in the air. Long streaks of light from the streetlamps stretched across the wet pavement.

"It's still fairly early. Should we walk back?" I suggested.

Eric draped his arm across my shoulders. We strolled aimlessly through the streets, past darkened shop windows and an occasional restaurant that spilled onto the sidewalks with lively patrons.

Eventually we came upon an avenue that led to the Place du Trocadéro. The broad marble square was perched on a hill just across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower.

The square was crawling with rowdy school groups, tourists, and the ubiquitous street vendors hawking cheap key chains and light up acrylic models of the Eiffel Tower. Eric steered me in the direction of a family decamping from a spot along the wall that ran along the promontory. The illuminated city spread before us in a breathtaking display. Our elevated vantage point made the iconic tower appear to be even closer.

Below, the Trocadéro Gardens cut a dramatic swath from the lip of the square down the hill to the Seine. A massive oblong pool ran the length of the formal lawn that was bounded by a lane of trees on either side and dotted with wooden park benches.

"Down there," I said pointing to an empty bench in the shadows well beyond the fray of the square.

I hightailed it down the stairs with Eric in tow and bee lined for the open bench to snag the prime spot before somebody else had the chance. Just slightly out of breath, we settled on the wooden bench; I stretched my legs the length of the bench and nestled my back against Eric's chest to soak up the views.

We spent some time in contented silence before I mentioned a thought that frequently seemed to cross my mind when traveling.

"I always wanted to live abroad for a bit. The probability has seemed to shrink with every passing year as I've gone further down my career path." I thought about the reality of that dream and added, "I'm quite certain it would never happen now."

Eric ran a hand up and down my bare arm.

"I had a couple of opportunities pop up over the years – one here and another in Italy – but I obviously turned them down."

"Why?" I was astonished. I couldn't fathom passing up offers like that.

"Staying at the Met always seemed to trump the other options."

I was still trying to imagine turning down a chance to live and work in Paris when he spoke again.

"I thought you were a New Yorker for good."

I shrugged. "I do love New York City, but I've always been intrigued by the thought of living somewhere else, particularly out of the country. At least for a couple of years," I added, and then laughed. "But clearly I'm committed to being in the New York for the next three years."

"Thirty four months."

I shifted my body to look up at him and smiled, reaching up to run my fingers down his cheek, then pulled him towards me for a kiss.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The next morning I woke to a crumple of sheets where Eric should have been. I stretched my arm into the void and pulled his pillow to my chest before drifting back to sleep. Slowly the sound of running water from the bathroom crept into my consciousness and my eyes popped open.

I shed my nightie on my path to the luxurious limestone shower and pulled a washcloth from the towel bar before cracking the glass door open just enough to allow me entrance. A cloud of steam swallowed me instantly, and I sidled up behind Eric.

"I was hoping you'd eventually wake up and join me." He turned from the spray to face me, skirting my waist with his hands and pulling me against him. Eric's skin was flushed from the heat of the water.

I plucked the bar of lemon verbena soap from the holder and worked it into a sudsy lather. "I thought perhaps I should supervise this operation."

"Oh, is that so?" he smirked.

"Absolutely," I nodded in mock seriousness. "I think you'll find I'm a very hands on manager."

He dipped to kiss me, drawing my lower lip into his mouth and giving it a little nip with his teeth. In turn, I reached around him and began soaping up one of my most favorite parts.

Something close to a growl escaped him. "I don't usually work well with that management style, but in this case..."

I raised an eyebrow and smiled. "In this case I'd say your response is exceptional."

We left our suite later than planned that morning, but we were meticulously clean. After a leisurely breakfast of omelettes, fresh fruit and enough coffee to leave me buzzing, we crossed the river to spend an hour together at the Louvre before Eric's afternoon of meetings.

He took me around to some of his favorite sculptures and then gave me a personal tour through the permanent collection of the Greek, Roman and Etruscan galleries. After the tour we walked hand in hand through the galleries; my destination was a special tapestry exhibition, and Eric needed to get to his meeting. Along the way he pulled me into a side gallery.

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

"Anything look familiar?" he smiled.

My eyes roamed the art in the gallery until they fell upon the piece he was talking about. I smiled back at him.

"Ah, Psyche and Cupid." We drew closer to the statue and circled it.

"The mythic pair that started it all."

I raised my eyebrow. "Are you crediting Sophie-Anne for setting us up?" I laughed.

"Hardly. But I'll fully admit I couldn't shake thoughts of you after that photo shoot."

I stretched on my tiptoes to give him a kiss, and then checked the time. "You've got to go."

He looked at his watch. "Yeah, I do."

"I think I'm going to make my way in that direction," I said pointing to the other end of the gallery. "Good luck. I'll see you later."

He smiled and was gone. I spent a little more time studying the sculpture, then turned to walk the opposite direction.

I spent some time learning about the recently restored medieval tapestries and wandered through a couple of galleries I'd never seen before, but I left mid-afternoon to run a couple of errands that I wanted to take care of before meeting up with Eric again.

It took some serious hoofing to get everything accomplished in time, but I made it back with several minutes to spare. Rather than fight the museum crowds again, I found a spot in the Tuileries, just a quick walk from the museum entrance. After texting Eric my location, I planted myself on a low wall worn smooth over time. Once I'd rearranged and smoothed down my skirt, I settled in for some excellent people watching.

I was fully engrossed watching a mother chase her small child around a fountain when I glanced up to see Eric crossing a patch of grass toward me with a half grin on his face. My heart sped up at the sight of him, partially a result of the anxiety I felt about his meeting with Henri, but mostly because he was the man I was absolutely crazy about, and I knew that he loved me.

He took a place on the wall next to me and kissed me with enthusiasm.

"Well hello," I laughed, pulling away from him and raised my eyebrows expectantly. "So?"

"So what?" he teased

I rolled my eyes in play and shook my head. "How was the meeting with Henri?"

He nodded his head with a downward smile. "It was good."

I was beyond impatient for real information. "How good?"

He smiled and finally relented, "He offered me the position."

I pulled him back to me for another kiss. "He would have been crazy not to."

I stretched to reach the handbag at my feet and extracted a split of champagne wrapped in a paper bag. As discreetly as I could, I popped the cork and poured a healthy amount into a couple of paper cups I had managed to scrounge up.

I lifted my cup. "Congratulations. I never doubted they would offer you the position." I was genuinely excited for him and after taking a few sips, leaned back into him for another kiss. His hand laced through my hair, prolonging the connection.

We pulled apart and his hand dropped to my knee. "Thank you. It feels good to get the offer."

He slugged back the rest of his champagne then crumpled the cup in his fist. "I'd have thought you learned your lesson about open containers after our brush with the law. Sam's badge isn't going to do you any good here."

"You know me. I like to live dangerously." I laughed. "But we couldn't possibly celebrate something big like this properly without champagne. Plus, it's just a teeny bottle."

In response he shook his head at me and skimmed my thigh with his fingertips. He froze and looked at me. "What's this?" he asked, detecting one of the delicate garter straps of my newly purchased lingerie beneath. Nothing got by him. I smiled.

"Just a little memento I picked up earlier."

His finger traced the strap up my thigh. "I can't imagine a better souvenir." He bent to my ear and spoke in the low voice that he knew affected me. "You know, we have plenty of time to swing by the hotel before dinner."

I clucked my tongue and leaned away from him ever so slightly. "I'd think you'd know by now, Mr. Chairman, that patience is a virtue."

He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at my rebuff and took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Then his eyebrow raised a bit as he shifted mental gears.

"You know, Miss Stackhouse, you shouldn't be calling me Mr. Chairman just yet."

"Why's that?" I instantly imagined a laborious nomination and approval process that would drag on for weeks.

"They've offered me the position, but I haven't decided yet if I'll take it."

For a moment I forgot to breathe.


	31. Chapter 31

"Oh my god," I groaned, collapsing in a pathetic heap on the couch. My body ached all over, I couldn't feel my fingertips, and I was bone tired. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, still bundled up. "Please remind me to never move in a snow storm again."

Eric reached over and tugged my gloves off and began to unzip my coat. I didn't move a muscle to help him. "Don't be such a wimp. That's not the Sookie Stackhouse I know."

I groaned again and allowed my head to drop to the side to assess the stacks of soggy boxes littering the living room. After a minute I swiveled my head in the other direction so I could see Eric. "Easy for you to say. You're big and burly; these boxes are a piece of cake for you."

"You know, flattery will get you everywhere," he said, and pushed off the couch. "Do you want a beer? Tea?"

"Peppermint tea would be divine."

I could hear the rapid opening and closing of the mostly empty kitchen cabinets. "Where's your tea and tea kettle?"

My eyes closed in exhaustion imagining the search for a tea kettle among all the boxes. "Make that a beer instead," I called back weakly.

He came back with two beers and settled in next to me on the couch.

"Thanks."

We clinked the glass necks of our bottles in a toast.

"To your new home," Eric said and we both took a swig. Considering it wasn't even close to my first choice, the icy beer tasted pretty damn good.

I looked around at Eric's old apartment, mostly bare of his things and laughed. "I always thought if I moved into my boyfriend's apartment, he'd be living there with me."

Eric took another drink. "It's good when you can surprise yourself," he smiled. "That's not an easy thing to do. Plus, it's your apartment now."

I had resisted moving into Eric's place on principle. Plus, it seemed like a potentially messy arrangement. Eric argued we shouldn't make decisions based on what would enable us to walk away from each other easily. I appreciated the sentiment, but remained unconvinced.

After all was said and done, the logic of real estate won out; it was a little larger than my old apartment, less expensive, and you couldn't beat an apartment with Central Park views. Eric's uncle had purchased the apartment for a song in the 80s, and Eric bought it from him at a very reasonable price a few years ago. I assumed the mortgage and maintenance payments, and would be able to sock away a good amount of savings each month.

Even if the real estate market hadn't been down the tubes, Eric didn't want to give the apartment up; this enabled him to hold onto it despite his move to Philadelphia. Of course it meant I had to set aside my own thoughts of home ownership for the time being, but that seemed to make sense anyway as I waited to see how things would develop between us.

"It's still your apartment, Eric."

"Let's not get into this again." He pushed my coat off one shoulder and distracted me with a kiss. I sank further into the couch and sighed contentedly, then pulled him toward me for a deeper kiss. He took the bottle from my hand and I heard the soft thud when it made contact with the floor. Soon we were making out like a couple of horny teenagers. With the single-minded focus of a high school senior, he worked me the rest of the way out of my coat and tossed it to the side before turning his attention to the buttons of my shirt.

Somewhere along the way I'd gotten a second wind and began fumbling to unbuckle Eric's belt, and pulled his shirt free from his waistband. Living in different cities hadn't diminished our relationship at all, and it seemed we were better than ever. We made seeing each other on the weekends a priority; that focused time made up for the face time we missed during the week.

I'd gotten through about half the buttons on Eric's fly when the doorbell rang, followed by the turn of the doorknob. "Hello? Sookie? Eric?" a woman's voice called.

"Oh, shit!" I exclaimed under my breath, wriggling out from under Eric and moving faster that I thought humanly possible to the restroom, tripping over a box and nearly breaking my neck along the way.

Mercifully the front door only opened about six inches before hitting a box. I pulled the bathroom door shut firmly behind me and prayed that Eric would at least have time to rebutton his fly, knowing that box would only hold back his mother for so long.

I splashed water on my face, rebuttoned my shirt, and smoothed my hair down as best I could with my hands before taking a deep breath and heading back into the living room.

"There you are, dear!" Eric's mother Hanna crossed the room and gave me a hug. She was a tall striking woman with thick, shoulder-length blonde hair that hinted it would turn a beautiful snowy white within a few years.

"Were you able to finish your Christmas shopping in this mess?" I gestured to the driving snow out the window. The Northmans usually came to the city the weekend before Christmas to do some shopping and see a play or two.

She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I picked up a couple of things, but David and I holed up in a hotel bar with a fireplace and drink Irish coffee instead. It may have been my favorite trip here yet."

I couldn't help but adore Eric's parents. They were genuine, intelligent, easy-going people with a lust for life and a sense of adventure. Suddenly I wondered where David was and glanced around the room.

Hanna was a perceptive woman and answered my question before I was able to ask it. "David's at the hardware store, he'll be here soon."

Eric walked back from the kitchen with a bottle of water and stretched across a box to hand it to his mom. I blushed a bit when I saw his disheveled state. His hair was sticking up on one side of his head, and his shirt was only halfway tucked in.

I spied a stack of towels on a box near Eric's feet. "Eric, would you mind taking those towels into the bathroom before I knock them onto this filthy floor?"

Without a word he scooped them up and headed to the bathroom. I hoped he would glance in the mirror before heading back out. At least he could be more presentable in front of his father.

"Are you sure you'll want to drive up to Vermont tomorrow morning?" Hanna asked surveying the mountain of work I had before me. "We'd be happy to stay an extra day or two and help you put things away."

"Oh, no. That's so kind of you, but I'll be fine. You and David have already been such an enormous help and I certainly won't miss seeing these boxes for a few days. They'll still be waiting for me when I come back."

She hooked her arm through mine and patted my hand. "If you insist, but we'd love to help."

"I'd much rather spend my time with your family in Vermont."

She squeezed my hand and smiled. "Everybody is excited to see you again. The boys can't wait to play hide-and-go-seek with you and Uncle Eric, and the adults are hoping you'll bake another of your Gran's pecan pies. Only one Northman holiday under your belt and your baking prowess is already legendary."

I had gone home with Eric to Vermont for Thanksgiving. The concept of a big family gathering had been so foreign and more than a little intimidating to me, but they'd taken me in right away and treated me as though I belonged in their flock.

I came away from Thanksgiving with a more profound understanding of the person Eric was. In those few days, I had seen him as a devoted son; a younger brother; a worshipped uncle - and I could imagine him as the kid who knew what he wanted to do with his life and set out to achieve it. It made me love him even more.

Eric emerged from the bathroom looking much more put together than he had going in and gave me a sly grin behind Hanna's back when I caught his eye. The doorbell rang again, and in stomped David, coated in a layer of snow and clutching a brown paper bag.

"Oh, gosh. Let me take your coat. I'll hang it up in the bathroom." I offered.

"Thanks, Sookie." He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to me along with his scarf and hat. David was every bit as tall as Eric, and maybe even a hair taller. I picked my way through the boxes to the bathroom.

"Boy, we're really getting it today. I'd say we've already gotten six inches and we may get another six."

I smiled to myself. I had always imagined fathers would do things like go to the hardware store and talk about the weather. When I came back from the restroom, David was emptying the contents of the paper bag on top of a box.

"What did you get?" I'd assumed he'd picked up something they needed for the car ride back.

"Oh, just a little WD-40 to take care of that squeaky closet door for you, and a hammer. I noticed you didn't have one in your toolbox. Every home needs one."

I felt my chest tighten at the thoughtfulness of these small gestures. "Thank you. You shouldn't have done that in this snow, I…"

He brushed off my thanks. "Oh, it's nothing. Son, come back and help me with this."

In their absence, Hanna and I began sorting through some of the boxes and trying to make some sense of the chaos.

"I don't know how I've managed to accumulate so much stuff." I laughed. "I moved to New York with a suitcase and now…" I waved my hand across the sea of boxes.

"It's amazing, isn't it? We've lived in our house nearly forty years…well, since Eric was born actually. We moved in when I was expecting." She smiled at me. "I always say I love that old house and wouldn't want to leave - which is true – but I think moving is the pits. You couldn't pay me a million dollars to move."

"Your house is perfect. I wouldn't ever move either if I were you."

She laughed. "It's far from perfect, but it's our home. It fits us, and we have so many memories there…" Her voice trailed off and she smiled to herself thoughtfully.

I smiled and got back to work, thinking of Gran's home. I loved her old house, and I had hated to sell it after she passed, but without Gran, it was just an empty house full of memories.

In a burst of energy we moved what seemed to be all the kitchen-related boxes into a convenient spot. Panting a bit, Hanna and I took a seat on the floor and leaned against the wall.

"I suppose we should start getting ready to go to dinner," Hanna looked at her watch and then out the window. Her voice was lacking its usual enthusiasm.

"Probably so," I agreed. The thought of sticking to our plan and getting ready to go out to a restaurant made me more weary than I already was. If I hadn't sensed that Hanna felt the same way, I would have sucked it up and kept my mouth shut. "Or, we could order delivery and stay in."

She nodded her head in relief. "That's a brilliant idea. Especially since we'll be leaving so early tomorrow."

"Did somebody say delivery?" David asked from over our shoulders. They'd finished tinkering around and had rejoined us.

An hour later we were digging into an extra large pizza, and clinking the wine glasses I'd been able to unearth. Hanna eyed her glass of wine appreciatively.

"Wine delivery." She shook her head in disbelief.

"You can't say the city doesn't have its advantages," David added.

"Do you miss it yet, Eric?" his mom asked.

"Some things." He gave me a fleeting look that made my heart skip, and his foot nudged mine under the table. "I've been so busy I haven't had time to miss the city."

Eric had been swallowed up by work from his very first day in October. It would calm down eventually, but it was going to take some time. Most weekends I travelled down to Philadelphia, but he'd been here a couple of times, and once we'd met up in New Hope, Pennsylvania – a charming town on the Delaware River that was just a little over an hour away for both of us.

"I'm just glad you're able to take some time off for the holidays," she said in true mom fashion.

The Northmans left for their hotel not much later, and Eric and I were alone again, sprawled out on the couch.

"Your family is the best."

He smiled and twisted a lock of my hair with is finger. "I'm lucky."

"Yes, you are, but a family like yours doesn't just happen." I could see it took a lot more than gravitational pull; it took conscious effort.

"You're right. It doesn't." Eric bent down and brushed his lips to mine. I leaned into him, then maneuvered to straddle his lap, sliding my arms around his neck. He unbuttoned the top button of my shirt and looked up at me with a half grin as he started on the second.

"Should we pick up where we left off?"

I kissed the corner of his smile and then dragged my lips across his stubbled jaw. "I was thinking the bedroom needs to be rechristened," I murmured into his ear.

In an instant he'd thrown me over his shoulder, and I let out a shriek of laughter as he fought a path to the bedroom.

Sometime after midnight I awoke. It took me a moment to recognize where I was, despite the fact I was in a room I'd slept in many times before. Eric's body was molded around mine, and in his sleep he pulled me closer.

The path I was on was a crooked one; I had wasted so much time and energy fretting over the curves, but I now knew that worrying was futile. I perhaps wasn't where I expected, but I was where I needed to be. I had to keep on my path and trust the two would synch up in time.

Eric's breath warmed my neck and I could feel his heart beat against my back. I wrapped my hands around his and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

_Well, here we are at the end of the story, but it's far from the end of the road for these two..._

___Writing this has been such a great learning experience - t_hank you for so much for reading! And a big thanks to those of you who not only read, but left a review along the way. I think it's safe to say I wouldn't have written beyond chapter 2 if it weren't for your encouragement. 

_And as always, my gratitude goes out to Miss Construed for being the best sounding board and pre-reader a person could ask for, as well as just an all-around great person to know._

_I hope I'll see you again for another story or outtakes here and there._

_xoxo, __Pfloogs_


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